Torment Effect
by thebluninja
Summary: Just before setting out for Virmire, Hackett diverts Shepard back to Eden Prime, where an intact human corpse has been found buried beneath where the beacon was. Upon retrieval, the corpse wakes up. What effect will an undying man and his pet skull have on the battle against the Reapers?
1. Chapter 1

Shepard strode out of the stairs, giving a quick nod to Pressley as she mounted the short platform for the galaxy map. "Joker, set us a course for Virmire," she ordered, the comm carrying her voice up to the pilot station.

"Sure – uh, wait one, priority communication from Admiral Hackett, Commander. He wants to see you in the message room." Shepard raised an eyebrow at this, staring up the length of the ship, managing to catch Joker's shrug. "He won't say over an unencrypted channel."

"Understood. Tell him it'll be just a moment." Turning, she walked around the bulkhead separating the briefing-slash-message room from the CIC. Once the door closed behind her, the left-most holographic display lit up with the scarred admiral. "Sir, what can the Normandy do for you today?" she said, her voice slightly humorous. Certainly her team had cleared up any number of problems for one of the most decorated officers in the Alliance.

"Shepard, I know you're hot on Saren's trail, but I want a stealth ship on this. Head for Eden Prime. After the beacon was stolen, the remaining archeologists went back to the dig site in the hope of finding something else of importance." She raised both eyebrows at this, and he nodded gravely. "They did. Buried twenty meters below the beacon was an _intact_ human corpse."

She knew her jaw dropped at that one, but the news was rather astounding. "Ah, sir, are we sure this isn't some diversion from Saren?" Hackett nodded decisively. "Then we'll head straight there in full stealth mode until we land on the planet."

"Thank you, Commander. Try not to run over anything important in the Mako?" he asked rhetorically, his hologram blipping off before she could respond.

Muttering under her breath, "That was one freaking time! In basic!" she turned around, striding back to the galaxy map. "Joker, engage stealth mode, and set EMCON Alpha." She waited, looking around the CIC as her crew made the adjustments, turning off various systems to fully mask their presence. "Set course for Eden Prime."

Several people, including Pressley, turned to look at her in surprise. "You heard me. We're making a quick run for the Alliance that could have much further-reaching consequences than a couple of hours chasing Saren." She hoped, anyway. If she saved evidence of Prothean interference in human development, only to have the geth destroy the Citadel, she was going to feel really, really dumb.

* * *

They arrived in system, pulling quickly into orbit around Eden Prime, remaining in stealth mode right up until Joker dropped the Mako less than a hundred meters away from the dig site. Their vehicle roared up as Shepard stepped on the accelerator, ignoring the protests of Kaiden and Liara from the back.

The scientists nearly opened fire before realizing the roaring metal beast was a friendly vehicle, and they slewed to a sudden stop next to one of the new pre-fab buildings. "Are you quite certain that Commander Shepard is qualified to operate moving vehicles?" Liara asked as they disembarked.

"Mostly. For all I know she got a black-market counterfeit license," Kaidan replied, winking at Shepard as she rolled her eyes.

Two of the scientists, sensibly carrying handguns, approached quickly. "I'm Commander Shepard. Admiral Hackett sent me to retrieve the newest artifact," she said simply. Their protests died, and moving into guard-escort positions, they led her to a more secure pre-fab in the rear of the dig site. A trio of Alliance marines saluted her before letting them in.

Inside, laid out under a stasis field, was a human corpse, though "intact" wasn't how Shepard would have described it. The body was covered with so many scars, injuries and tattoos, that the skin resembled something more like leather. The odd part was the utter lack of decay, since as far as she could see, even the soft tissue like eyes and nose were still intact. He was dressed, if it could be called that, in a rough loincloth and a baldric made of bone pieces held together with metal wire. His hands were clasped around a skull clutched face to his chest. "By the Goddess," Liara whispered.

Shepard looked around the lab, deciding on a scientist at random, and gesturing him over. "Give me all the details," she ordered.

"Ah, yes, our friendly Spectre," he replied with ill grace. "Several hundred pages with all the important details and every theory right down to the tinfoil hat have been encrypted and sent to Arcturus already, but I'll give you the highlights. When we did our scans, we found an area of higher density that roughly matched that of a coffin. Hoping that we'd managed to find a Prothean burial site, we excavated as rapidly as possible, and found him." He waved one hand irritably at the corpse while sipping a mug of coffee. "Yes, we've done all the tests, and came up with wildly inconsistent readings. The soil surrounding him was, on all sides, almost uniformly dated back to sixty thousand years ago."

"The beginning of the expansion of the Prothean empire," Liara spoke up, already taking notes on her omni-tool.

"Yes," he drawled out, glaring at the alien before continuing. "The corpse himself, who we took several small tissue samples, dated back to a 'mere' thousand years, which as you understand, had us quadruple-checking all of our instrumentation."

"I've got a quarian mechanic on board," Shepard replied dryly, "if you really want to be sure of your equipment."

"As far as we can tell," he continued, ignoring her reply completely, "there was no stasis field surrounding the body, so no one even knows what the hell is going on."

Shepard turned around towards Liara. "You're the Prothean expert," she said, "Have you even heard of Protheans keeping dead bodies of any other species? We know they observed us from Mars, and were on the Hanar homeworld."

The archeologist took the question seriously, moving to a chair and thinking deeply for several minutes while Kaidan circled the body, examining it from all angles. "I've never heard of anything like this. What actually concerns me is that based on the soil samples, this body pre-dates the Mars installation by nearly four thousand years."

Kaidan whistled, looking up from the body. "That's … kind of scary impressive."

"Indeed," Liara answered piously. "Did your orders from Admiral Hackett forbid us from taking any additional samples or recordings?"

Shepard shook her head. "No, but we do need to get it to Arcturus as quickly as possible." She turned back to the angry scientist. "Get me as many bodies are needed to move this thing into the Mako."

* * *

An hour later, they were back on board, Chakwas and Shepard watching as Wrex casually pulled the entire stasis pod out of the Mako and set it on the floor. "Where did you want this body, anyway?" the krogan asked. "He's kind of ugly looking. Scars are good, but this guy took it too far."

"Follow me up to medical," Chakwas said. "We're going to keep it under observation for the couple of hours we'll take to get to Arcturus." With some awkward maneuvering, the three of them all managed to fit into the elevator with the pod, and Kaidan and Ashley kept the curious crewmembers on the far side of the tables.

Inside medical, Wrex set it down on the table, and the rest of Shepard's team filtered inside. "Alright, turn off the stasis mode," Shepard ordered, and with the press of a few buttons, Tali deactivated the shimmering energy field. "Liara, Doctor, get your samples now. We might not get another chance to see anything like this ourselves."

They set to work rapidly, standing on opposite sides of the tables. Garrus and Wrex, both quickly bored with it all, left after a few minutes, though Tali remained for several more, running her own set of scans with her omni-tool. Shepard figured the quarian would forward the data to the Migrant Fleet, but she didn't see how yet another mystery would help the homeless nomads. Eventually she left too, preceded only briefly by Ashley and Kaidan.

"Liara, can you pull gently on that arm? I want to see if I can turn the skull enough to see the teeth on the skull he's holding," Chakwas asked, tweaking her own omni-tool. The asari closed both hands carefully around the forearm of the scarred corpse, and tensing, pulled gently as the doctor took hold of the skull top and bottom and moved to rotate it.

Instead, the skull slipped completely from his grasp, rolling down the table to stop between the feet of the corpse, staring at Shepard. _Literally_ staring, she took in with a moment of detached shock, as the pair of completely intact eyes rolled in their sockets and gave her a lavicious feet-to-face once-over. "I've died again and gone to Celestia!" he said.

Liara screamed as the skull floated into the air, drifting off towards the back corner of the med bay. "I don't suppose you can tell me what you were doing buried on a colony underneath an alien artifact?" Shepard asked calmly, trying very hard to ignore the senseless gibbering that one corner of her mind was doing while she _carried on a conversation with a disembodied floating skull_.

"Ah, no, can't say that I do." The skull then turned back towards the corpse, floated over him, and quite calmly facebutted him. "Boss! Wake up! There are some _incredibly_ hot women here!" The skull turned towards Liara, who had circled behind the last med bay in line and was glowing with biotic power. "I don't know what species some of them are, but they're worth it!"

Shepard's sense of incredulity was stretched even further as the scarred corpse suddenly raised one hand to his face, rubbed it hard where the skull had just bashed him, and then opened his eyes. "Morte?" he rasped out, "What are you doing here?" He sat up, staring around an unfamiliar metal and glass room. "What am _I_ doing here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Chakwas asked, moving in right away with her omni-tool, murmuring quietly to herself, "heartbeat normal, respiration 90%, blood pressure slightly elevated."

He looked at her, then down at his hands, then at the skull, then at Liara, and finally at Shepard. The skull, Morte he'd called it, was floating on the other side of the table from Liara, obviously respecting her power without recognizing it, and not stopping from waggling his eyebrows and grinning at her nervousness.

"The last thing I remember was standing on the Negative Material Plane, surrounded by the bodies of my friend, and willing the destruction of my soul," he answered harshly. A moment later, he reached one hand up to his shoulder, peeling off a patch of skin with a tattoo of a sigil Shepard felt like she should recognize.

"That sounds a little extreme," she responded, and he returned his gaze from the doctor to her. "I'm kind of glad it didn't work."

He blinked, looking down at his hands again before looking back at her. "That's the thing – it _did_ work," he said. "I felt my soul destroyed in the same instance that oblivious came crashing down upon me. Yet I still only feel as though my soul is _missing_ instead of _destroyed_." Frowning suddenly, he leaned over, grabbing Morte across the top of the skull and yanking it over to him. "How did you survive?"

Struck with a sudden bout of nervousness, the skull began flicking his eyes back and forth while he answered. "Eh, you know, your mortality couldn't touch me the way it did the others. I didn't have a life to turn into a shadow." The nameless man lifted Morte to stare into his eyes for several moments, then released it.

He stood up, and Shepard, no slouch herself, found herself looking up and _up_ at him. The man hadn't seemed that large on the table, but now he seemed to rival a krogan for size, and was nearly a full head taller than her. "Do you have a name?" she asked him.

He considered the question very carefully. "For a long time, I did not, because it served me better to remain hidden." Carefully, he held out one large hand to her. "I think, for now, I will continue that habit. You may simply call me Nameless." She shook his hand, noting idly that his hands were the size of her armor gauntlets.

She glanced at the tattoo he'd peeled off like a cheap decal and cleared her throat. "I'm Commander Shepard, Alliance military," she watched his face carefully as she made her introductions, "This is Doctor Chakwas, and that is Liara T'Soni." He gave a respectful nod to both of them. "I'm under orders to bring you to Arcturus Station for, ah, investigation by the Alliance military." He frowned, obviously not liking the sound of that. "I think they'll understand rather quickly that they're dealing with a very confused person, not a recovered thousand-year-old corpse."

"But I _am_ a thousand year old corpse," he said. Without warning, he lunged for her, ripping the pistol out of her pocket. Liara threw a singularity at him, and Nameless started floating up into the air along with several pieces of medical equipment, but instead of turning the gun on them, he held it in his hand, puzzled with the device. "This is a weapon, I could tell from the way your hand twitched towards it when I sat up, but it has no cutting edge and is too small to strike with force. Is it enchanted?"

The singularity popped, sending him crashing to the ground, and when he stood up, he had dropped the pistol for a laser scalpel. "This looks more like I'm used to," he said, and then suddenly reversed the handle, plunging the glowing energy blade into his chest. In shock, all three simply watched him crumple to the floor.

"Eh, give him a minute, he should be up and around like new," Morte piped up from where he floated. Shepard turned to look at the skull incredulously as Ashley and Kaidan came pounding back in, weapons at the ready. Both Alliance stopped at the door, staring in shock at the disarray and the body on the floor.

"Hold fire … I think," Shepard said, watching Nameless. A few seconds later, he suddenly inhaled sharply, the laser scalpel falling away from his body as he lurched to his feet. Despite the command, Ashley immediately leveled her assault rifle, blowing several rounds right into him, and sending him crashing back to the floor. "Tell me you all saw that?"

"Yeah, the freaking _sixty thousand year old corpse_ just got up off the floor!" Ashley said, her eyes wide with shock. Crew members were gathering around behind her, though leaving a wide gap after the sudden weapons fire. "Commander, what the **fuck** is going on?"

With some trepidation, Shepard retrieved her pistol, holding it mostly for reassurance. "When he gets back up again, try not shooting," she said.

"Yeah, he might get a little annoyed at that," Morte replied as he floated over everyone's head to end at breast height a few feet away from Ashley.

"_Holy shit it's a floating skull!_" Ashley all but shrieked, swinging the butt of her rifle at the skull as it nimbly dodged just out of her reach.

"Sounds like I missed all of the … excitement," Garrus trailed off as he stepped up behind the two Alliance soldiers, looking over their soldiers as Nameless rose again to his feet. "Wasn't this guy _dead_ an hour ago?" he asked rhetorically.

Nameless turned to look at Ash, examining her weapon closely as she agonized over whether to shoot him or Morte. "That is quite puissant wizardry," he said. "Commander, was it? I hope you don't require any more demonstration of what I am."

"What just happened?" Wrex asked, shoving Garrus and Kaidan to one side as he came lumbering up. He locked eyes with Nameless for several moments. "You look fairly lively for a dead man," he said.

"You have no idea," Morte said, bobbling a little as the krogan whirled to the side, eye to eye with him. "How many people are going to ask that question, anyway?"

Almost as though waiting for the question, Tali came threading her way through the crowd, stopping between Wrex and Kaidan, pausing and pointing a finger at Nameless. "Wasn't he dead?" she asked.

"Alright!" Shepard shouted loud enough for the gathered crew to hear her. "I need to debrief our archeological visitor first. Anything important will be passed down to the crew. Return to your duty stations!" As almost everyone started to disperse, she gave a mental sigh. "Not you, Tali. Everyone in my squad, to the briefing room. Follow me, Nameless," she spoke the last word with a clear helping of doubt.

They trooped up the stairs together, striding past the CIC crew that couldn't leave their stations and into the briefing room. "Joker, get Admiral Hackett on the line, _now_." After a few minutes, during which Shepard got a rather confusing overview of Sigil, the holographic display came to life. "Admiral," she spoke before he could, "I'd like you to meet Nameless, the body found under the Prothean beacon." Without any preamble, she then drew her pistol and shot him right in the heart.

"Commander Shepard! What the _hell_ is wrong with you? The body turned out to be alive and you just _blew him away_?" Hackett had gone from confused to furious in the length of a gunshot, and she felt fairly sure that if, for some reason, Nameless didn't get back up, she would see a firing squad.

"How do you get the ghost to appear on command?" Morte asked, and the admiral's anger was, if not deflected, at least greatly confused by the appearance of a floating, talking skull.

"Sir, from what I've come to understand, well," she hesitated a moment to try and phrase it correctly, "this sounds like something from a bad fantasy novel, but Morte here, and Nameless, seem to hail from some kind of alternate dimension. They can't tell us anything about the Protheans."

"Don't even know what they are," Morte added. "Or the incredibly beautiful blue chit, either." He waggled his eyebrows at Liara, who looked vaguely horrified at the mere idea.

"Shepard, are you trying to tell me," his voice suddenly cut off with his own jaw-dropping moment as Nameless suddenly sat up, picking himself up from the floor and flicking his own blood off his chest. "How … how did you do that?" he quietly asked Nameless directly.

The scarred warrior sighed heavily. "It was a curse, of sorts. Unique, and with a heavy downside that I would not wish on anyone," he said, the very air seeming to ring with truth.

"Alright, Shepard. This is highly unusual, but," he paused to look at Morte one last time, "continue with your mission. Bring Nameless in for a debriefing after you've managed to stop Saren."

"Understood, Admiral. Shepard out." She disconnected the communication, and leaned heavily against the railing next to the display. "Nameless, I'll have Pressley assign you to a bunk, and we'll see what we can do to integrate you into the crew. I don't suppose you have combat experience?"

He smiled wanly. "Only in melee combat, though I'll see if there's anything I can do to reconstruct my spellbook."

"Your … spellbook?" Kaidan asked skeptically. "You know what, on second thought, never mind." The group slowly filed out, Nameless and Morte still trailing Shepard and Liara, respectively.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: This started as pretty much just the first couple of scenes in my head, so I wrote it out partly to challenge myself and partly because the good folks on the Aria's Afterlife Forum encouraged me. That said, _What The Effect_ is still my primary fic, so expect updates to this one to be sporadic._

Nameless sat in a chair in the medical bay, looking at the doctor. She had become incredibly angry when he started pulling off strips of his own skin, the stripped layers drying swiftly to the consistency of papyrus. Then again, she had told him they didn't use paper nearly often enough to keep a stash of it on board.

So far, he had recorded three spells from memory, laboriously writing out the magical symbols in a manner he could use to relearn them. If what they had said was true, that the powers he'd seen at use weren't the magic he was used to, there was only one way he could get more spells … and using _that_ ace in the hole would be a critical waste.

She cleared her throat, and he briefly held up a finger as he finished inking another symbol before glancing up at her. "Lunch. It's only reconstituted vegetable stir fry, but it's something." He nodded absently, continuing his scribing. Fortunately for Chakwas' peace of mind, they had enough substances around to use as ink, after he suggested he could write in his own blood.

It was another hour before he sighed with satisfaction and added the piece of skin to the pile. _Cloudkill_ wasn't a spell he wanted to use lightly, but he was obviously in a warship of some kind. Picking up the now cold plate, he began shoveling the food into his mouth with a spoon. "Finally done with another one?" the doctor asked, turning away from her own device.

The objects around here did fascinate him, and it looked like he might even have the time to learn it, if his undying curse continued here. "Yes, a spell to create large clouds of poisonous vapor. Usually but not always fatal," he said between bites, noting the thin press of disapproval marring her lips. "I thought this was a warship. Why do you disapprove of offensive spells?"

She leaned back slightly, crossing her legs and folding her hands atop her knee. "You'll find that most troops here have an instinctive dislike of chemical warfare. If you're going to go for something suited to warfare, you'd do better to win their approval with something large, explosive, and above all, flashy." She cocked her head towards the pitifully small pile of scraps. "I don't suppose you have much of that in the pile?"

He considered the spells at his disposal. "Actually, more than a few. I suppose that's something that both of our universes have in common." He carefully folded his fledgling spell book, sticking it into the eye socket of the skull on his shoulder. "But I don't think that's what you really wanted to ask me, is it?"

She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "You are rather perceptive. No, I was more curious about something else. The tests the scientists ran on you before you awoke indicated your age was somewhere around a thousand years, and despite the massive scarring, I'd say you were no more than a very well-aged sixty." Setting both feet on the floor, she leaned forward. "I hope you understand why, as a doctor, I find that very intriguing."

He nodded, closing his eyes and gathering his thoughts, then reached up to his bare shoulder and ripping off one of the tattoos. Unlike his other injuries, this one remained open, blood beading up and slowly trickling down the scar lines to his elbow. "This one, this sigil right here, do you know what this is?" Wordlessly, Chakwas shook her head. "**Torment**."

The word lay heavy in the air, taking up weight and volume that spoken language simply shouldn't do. "Most of my memories are, thankfully, gone. But I do remember some of that very first me." His face became a stony mask, carved in effigy like some aeons-old tribute to a bitter and jealous god. "I was a selfish man, caring nothing for the pain or suffering of others. In my world, you must understand, the sins of ones life can be _clearly seen_, and I knew my fate.

"I would be sent to one of the many Hells, I knew not which one, but my fate would be the same – my soul, forced to do battle for the forces of evil, killed and brought back to endless disgusting life until a greater demon chose to consume me. And I could not _abide_ such a fate, so I turned my intellect and my cunning to another task.

"I found the greatest of the Grey Sisters, evil witches with power beyond compare. She had posed a simple riddle, and many a man had come to her seeking power, only to fail in her eyes and be slain for it. The question was this: **_What can change the nature of a man?_**" Again, the words filled the entire space of the medical bay, pressing down on Chakwas with an age and power she was unused to. Worst of all was the actual _sound_ of the question, as though a thousand people had shouted it in perfect harmonious unison … primary among them a voice that she simply knew would start making appearances in her nightmares.

"What," she paused at hearing her own voice shaking, and carefully swallowed against a dry mouth before continuing. "What was your answer?"

"I spoke to her, wonderful Ravel, and I set her an even more impossible task: to separate a man from his mortality, to allow him to die without actually dying. So she peeled it away from me, and in her moment of triumph, she tested her skill by driving her poisoned talons deep into my heart." He trailed off here for a moment, eyes lost in distant memory. "When I awoke, I was alive again, but everything that had made me _me_ was lost, gone and missing."

His gaze returned to her, and she felt in Nameless' gaze as though she were a gazelle being looked at by a sated lion, an expression that said, _You live only because I do not need you to die_. "I do not know the magics she used on me, doctor, and even if I did, I would rather see the world burn than force anyone else to experience what I have. Every time I die, I must accept the fact that _someone else_ might wake up the next day, wearing my face, and the me that existed is gone, permanently, not even a soul passed on to the afterlife for good or evil."

The medical bay was filled then with no sounds other than the faint scratching of Nameless' stylus on another strip of skin as he wrote down another spell, and the faint susurrus of their breathing.

Two hours later, the Normandy lowered onto the surface of Virmire, and with permission, Nameless joined several others as they stepped out onto the surface of this world. It was … peaceful, he finally decided, staring out at the rough sea as it crashed against the rocks. The wildlife was slightly odd, but no stranger than many beings he'd seen and talked to in the City of Doors.

He wasn't really paying attention at first to what was happening; Shepard had made it perfectly clear that he was to remain under observation until this mission was over and she had the leisure to decide his fate on a more permanent level. So the loud boom came as something of a surprise, and he turned to see the hulking reptile-man holding a tube with a handle adjustment. A moment later, the blast repeated, and he quickly put it together: _this is one of their weapons, a forceful blast of energy usable by any one of any species_. No wonder why the doctor had found his description of his magical skills somewhat bizarre.

He waded closer, remaining out of the line of fire, and listened to Shepard and Wrex speak about the future of his race and the crimes being committed here, with her eventually convincing him to allow the destruction of this enemy stronghold. Only after she walked away did he approach the warrior closer. "I think I have something that may be of use to you," he said simply.

Wrex frowned, staring up at the massive human through narrowed eyes. "Yeah? What?" he demanded shortly.

In response, Nameless tore the tattoo from his shoulder again, and before the krogan could react, slammed it into the forehead plate. It adhered instantly, the ink bleeding into the battlemaster and the force of the blow enough to send him to his knees. "You know torment, as intimately as any. It is a constant, a lodestone, a scar you can always point to as having shaped the very direction of your existence." He looked at the ridged plate, and added sardonically, "Sometimes literally."

Regaining his feet, the warlord nodded, then slammed a fist into Nameless' chest, doing nothing more than rocking him backwards a step. "You better leave the inspirational speeches for Shepard, human," he rumbled. But it was plain for Nameless, and a more distant Shepard, to see that the gesture had helped Wrex to bear the weight of the mission in some way.

"It's time to go," Shepard shouted, and her team quickly got together in front of the command tent. Nameless moved closer to the Normandy, listening to the inspirational speech by the skinnier lizard-man, not understanding any of the references but enjoying it anyway. As he stepped into the airlock with Liara and the suited woman, he looked over both of them.

It was strange, he thought, that this Shepard seemed to collect people around her who suffered as he did, yet nothing in her own manner pointed to a torment of her own. As they stepped inside, he resolved that, one way or another, he would do his best to help her companions. He had held the very blade of a celestial once, and he needed no spell to see that these people were as kind and worthy as any he met in his last journey to face down his mortality.

"Um," the suited one spoke to him as they started to walk between the glowing desks of the ship's crew, "if you don't mind my asking, what did you do to Wrex back there?"

He raised his eyebrows, and gestured to his shoulder. "I gave him a tattoo. This tattoo, actually," and matching actions to words, pulled it off his shoulder again, watching both women recoil from him. "It's not like its fatal," he added dryly.

"Er, maybe not, but you have no idea of how creepy that looks." Tali shook her head, and moved a small step further back as they descended the stairs and he replaced the tattoo. "Why does he need it, anyway?"

At the bottom, he paused, turning to face them both, seeing he had their full attention. "This symbol is the one for torment. It has … shaped my entire life, in one way or another, and unfortunately was responsible for the deaths of all those who travelled with me." As a familiar skull floated up towards them, he smiled slightly. "Even Morte, though he doesn't remember much of his life before I pulled him out of Baator."

"And boy am I glad for that!" he added. "Mind if I tag along and just watch you work?" Morte asked Liara.

"Yes," she said shortly, and even as he moved to follow her, she smacked him with a quick Stasis and vanished into the back of the med bay.

"Well, ah, I hope you can adjust to, ah, living again," the quarian said, turning to step into the elevator and descend back to Engineering.

"Wait," he ordered, then added more softly, "please." She paused, one foot in the elevator, and reluctantly turned around. "I don't know what burdens you carry, but," he paused in search of the right words, "I could always _feel_ who the people most burdened by inner torment were. And, in many cases, they were … drawn to me, like iron to a magnet." Tali nodded even more reluctantly at this. "I don't say this to challenge your bond with Shepard. Merely that, well, if you want someone to talk to, who you don't have to worry about letting down, you can speak to me."

They shared several long seconds of awkward silence before she nodded again. "I'll consider it, Nameless," she said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Not unless you can find me enough blank paper to start a journal," he added dryly. "It would be quite unfortunate if I woke up tomorrow with no memories and a different personality. Again."

"Why don't you just record it?" she asked, and at his uncomprehending look, activated her omni-tool, and played an audio file. "Reading is faster sometimes, but if you're really going to lose your memory, then hearing your own voice talking might help even more."

He hadn't realized that their devices were capable of working like that, and a genuine happy smile broke out on his face. "Thank you, Tali'Zorah."


	3. Chapter 3

After some discussion with Doctor Chakwas, and Liara, he was handed an omni-tool of his own, and taught the basic activations of it. It was a remarkable device, he thought, and had it appeared in the City of Doors no doubt veritable armies would have run the streets red to possess it, yet to these people, it was old, obsolete, _weak_.

Taking a seat in the medical bay, he tried doing a simple test, using the "scan" function over the spell strip that held the _Magic Missile_ spell he had gotten so much use out of. The resulting holographic display turned out as so much garbled nonsense. He sighed. "Pity, that would have made things easier for me," he said.

"How so?" Chakwas asked, always eager to learn more of what made their strange visitor tick.

Settling back in the chair, he ordered his thoughts to explain. "Every mage can channel only a certain amount of magical energy. Strength of mind is a factor, as is experience, but it still has an upper limit. More powerful mages can hold more spells. In essence, these," he tapped the strips of skin that held the half dozen spells he had transcribed, "allow me each day to choose _how_ I will channel that force.

"But in addition, with a little more effort, a mage can take that focused energy and put it into a physical form. Normally, these are done with scrolls or small charms, and can be used once or thrice. I hoped that, by scanning the image in, I could use the 'copy' function to create an unlimited number of scrolls." He smiled in a way that grabbed Chakwas' I-like-the-bad-boys libido like a sensual embrace. "You can imagine how powerful that would make me."

Raising her eyebrows, and working to control her breathing, she nodded. "I certainly can," she said. "You're going to start recording your diary now?"

"Yes," he said, but then sat for several moments in silence, staring blankly through him while she paged through the latest set of medical journals, downloaded before they left. "I am recording these diaries for two purposes," he spoke at last, and her eyes flicked over to see the glow of the omni-tool on his hand. "Firstly, to aid Commander Shepard, who rescued me, and who I can tell is someone who fights on the side of good. Secondly, to hopefully bring a resurgence of my memories in the inevitable case that one of the times I perish, they disappear.

"The first memory I remember from this life is waking up on a cold steel slab, the air filled with the thick scent of old blood and embalming fluid, hearing the slow shuffle of zombie servants, tasting the bitter tang of embalming fluid on my tongue, staring at a dark ceiling and wondering what had just happened to me and who I was."

Three hours later, Liara, Chakwas, Morte, and Tali had all given up on their other tasks and sat, enraptured, as Nameless wove the tale of his life. They had just reached his first encounter with Pharod, when the ship shuddered underneath them. "Doctor, we've got wounded coming in hot! Salarians, plus Wrex, Ashley, and the Commander!"

In moments, the medical bay was empty of everyone save Chakwas and Nameless, and the scarred man stood to the back of the room, watching silently from the corner. Salarians were a curiously fragile-looking race, he thought, but these ones were certainly stoic. Nodding as he reached a decision, he pulled out his spell fragments, and read one of them, the spell boring into his brain in mere instants. He perused it several more times, then blinked and focused his attention back on the medical cases. "I'm sorry," Chakwas was saying to an alien who appeared to be in charge, "but he's going to be dead in minutes at best. I need to focus on the rest of them."

"Let me try," Nameless said, striding forward, nudging aside those with only minor wounds without seeming rude about it, and stopped near him. Chakwas had already moved on to another one, working on his arm with glowing tools and a ready supply of medi-gel. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the unfortunate man, missing one leg from the knee down and bearing several holes in his chest, one of which he thought had punctured a lung. Making the arcane gestures required, he thrust a hand at the injured salarian.

Instantly, the pained breathing stopped as the wound seemed to flow close, a perfectly matching one appearing on Nameless' bare chest. Their commander cried out in shock as he repeated it, then again, and a fourth time, each one leaving injuries magically closing up as the damage literally transferred itself to Nameless until he finally toppled to the floor, his own leg now denuded down to bare bone. "Could you help me to a chair?" he rasped out before coughing blood into one hand.

"Unbelievable," Kirrahe said. "No, _impossible_. Healing technology like that _beyond_ any known species. Beyond what is known of _Prothean_ science."

The scarred man raised a single finger to cut him off, smiling even as blood leaked from his mouth. "Not science, **magic**. Keep watching, I'll grow all of this back." Sure enough, by the time the doctor had finished patching up the four salarians in need of full medical care, his leg merely looked emaciated, and the multiple holes in his torso had completely healed.

The healthy ones left, moving to rejoin their gear in the cargo bay, and Nameless remained slumped in the chair, resting. "How did you do that?" Chakwas finally asked as she began cleaning green blood from her hands and stuffing the disposable scrubs into the recycler.

He sighed. "It's a spell called a blood bridge. It's … actually, I don't remember how I learned it." He frowned at this, eyes flicking behind closed eyelids as he considered. "But it's a healing spell I used only when Grace had run dry, or we were in a place I could safely sleep until I was healed."

"But, the pain from something like that must be crippling!" she protested, dropping wearily into her own chair next to her console.

He looked pointedly at the scars crisscrossing every visible inch of his body, and gave her back a sardonic look. "I really hadn't noticed," he said dryly. "Besides, I don't think I'd reached the part where I found my own severed arm lying in a crypt under part of the Hive."

Before she could answer, the door to the medical bay opened, and Shepard entered. "Doctor, how are all of your patients?"

"Fine and resting, now. I expect all five of them to make full recovery in a couple of days, two weeks at the most." She gestured at Nameless. "He helped save the worst one, after I'd already triaged him into beyond my help," she added appreciatively. "As you can see, Liara also gave him one of those old Mark 1 omni-tools nobody's using, rather than scrap it for omni-gel."

Shepard nodded soberly. "Thank you," she said, and turned to leave.

"What happened down there?" he rasped out, and she paused in the doorway, hand resting on the frame. "Before you left, you were … your emotional scars were all old, healed over by time. Now, I'd say you're in need of the same tattoo I gave Wrex."

Without turning around, she bowed her head. "I had a choice. I could save Kaidan, or I could save Ashley and a dozen STG." Several seconds of awkward silence stretched between them. "The brutal calculus of war," she finished, and strode away. Through the window, he watched as she crossed the deck to enter her cabin.

Nameless sat quietly for several minutes as the doctor worked on her patient reports, then rose and stepped to the door in the rear of the medical bay. Liara looked up as he entered, Morte surprisingly silent and resting on a shelf above her, his own eyes darting up to the door before returning to the archeological notes spread out on the desk.

"If it's not imposing, I hoped I could take a corner and sleep. I'd rather not be in the doctor's way right now," he said. The asari nodded, gesturing towards a fold-down bunk. "Thank you." He limped over to the bunk, pulling it down and sitting cautiously before gently rubbing the skin over his leg, mostly healed back now and still bearing the old scars and tattoos.

He awoke to the sound of quiet voices, two female, one male and familiar. "So there we are, standing on a fortress that's supposed to have been _literally_ built from the feelings of regret, and the old Nameless is racing around, trying to figure out where we all vanished to. The place is _crawling_ with living shadows of different varieties, and it's all I can do to stay out of their way, let alone help him. Anyway, we manage to find Dak'kon, the humorless bastard, and by the time we find old Xach he's bleeding from a dozen wounds. We barely get back to the Mortuary, and somehow he knows Deionarra is already dead."

"All this magic, and you couldn't bring her back to life?" Shepard asks, and Nameless can sense in her voice that tiny hope even she knows is futile.

"Nah. Well, maybe, but see, he didn't _want_ to bring her back. He _wanted_ her dead, so that he could get her to spy on what was going on inside the fortress. Only, barely a week goes by and he gets overconfident and knifed by some punk, and voila, brand new Nameless." Morte was probably rolling his eyes at that point. "This one was a total clueless berk, started kicking up all kind of fuss and got beaten down by the zombie servants, of all things." The skull tsked at that, too.

"And how many more times did 'I' die before you ended up with me?" Nameless asked, rolling over. Liara jumped at the sound of his voice, while Shepard barely twitched, but towards her weaponry, he noticed.

"Eh, a hundred? Maybe two? It was kind of easy to lose track," Morte sniped.

"Fair enough," he acknowledged. "Commander, I realize that my origin to your crew is … unorthodox, to say the least. But if there is anything I can do to help –"

"No tats," she said, then smiled thinly. "I don't know how I'd explain them to my mom, especially if you smack it in the middle of my forehead.

He shrugged, and tested his leg before standing, though it had healed fully as he expected. "It doesn't have to stay there, you know." To illustrate, he removed two other tattoos, switching their placement on his body.

"You really have no idea just how disconcerting that is to observe, do you?" Liara asked, mostly rhetorically.

Ignoring the entire tattoo conversation with an effort of willpower, Shepard also rose, moving towards the door. "We're returning to Citadel station briefly, to drop off the salarians and take on more supplies." She glanced over at Liara, then nodded to herself. "I'll be letting the crew off in shifts for shore leave. I have enough to do that I can't explain our world, but if Liara and someone else are willing to accompany you, feel free to browse around and observe this brave new world you've landed in."

"Thank you, Commander, I will do that," he replied, and watched her leave. "Who else would be amenable?" He then looked up at the shelf. "And can we keep Morte inconspicuous? From everyone's reactions when I awoke, flying disembodied body parts that can speak aren't exactly common here."

"They weren't common in Sigil, either," Morte complained. "I'm unique!"

Liara looked from the shelf to the scarred man. "Tali might, but quarians usually aren't welcomed much of anywhere, and I'm not sure she'll even want to leave the ship. It might be better to ask Garrus."

He considered it. Nameless hadn't had much contact with the turian, less than the single conversation he'd had with the krogan. This might be a good chance to remedy that, especially since the turian was one of the few members he didn't feel torment-drawn to. "I will go and ask him," he said.

"You do that," she replied, already turning back to her archeology notes.


	4. Chapter 4

Nameless stepped off the elevator into the cargo bay for the first time. It seemed rather crowded, what with a nearly a dozen salarians, plus Wrex, Ashley, Garrus, a large metal cart of some kind, and two human crewmembers. Garrus could be seen behind one of the wheels, laying on a mat while he tinkers with something on the underside of the cart.

Curious as to the contraption, Nameless strode over to the front of the vehicle, braced his hands against the nose, and attempted to lift it. His best efforts barely shifted the Mako on its suspension, but that was enough to get Garrus' attention. "What are you _doing_, you crazy dead man?" the turian cried out in anger, rolling out from underneath it. "Are you trying to injure me?"

Blinking at the anger, and suddenly the center of everyone's attention, he shook his head. "I was curious how heavy such a vehicle could be. I don't see any means of pulling it, and I did not think that lifting one end slightly would put you at any risk, when the clearance is enough for you to crawl unimpeded beneath it." He held up a hand placatingly. "But I apologize if my curiosity startled you."

The turian flexed his hands, and fluttered the mandibles on the side of his head. Nameless studied the movements, fairly sure that he had unknowingly committed some sort of alien faux pas. "What did you want?" Garrus finally asked, bending over to return the few tools to a small case.

"Commander Shepard informed me that we will soon be docking someplace named Citadel. Liara recommended that I ask you to guide me, as the member of the crew most familiar with the place." That was enough to startle the alien, and inwardly Nameless was pleased, being able to interpret the facial movements correctly. "Obviously, I have no local currency, but all I want to do is learn enough about your universe to experience it safely."

Garrus considered it, looking over Nameless. "Are you … determined to wear _that_ outfit on the Citadel?" As the human glanced down at his apparel, he elaborated. "No offense, but an outfit like that … well, in some neighborhoods, it's like wearing a giant flashing 'Come fuck with me' sign above your head."

"Unfortunately, this is practically all I own," he replied. "Does this Citadel have portions where the supremely wealthy reside?"

His face suddenly moved to a position fairly easily interpreted as anger. "I'm _not_ accompanying you to rob a bunch of rich people, Nameless," he growled.

"No, that wasn't what I meant," the human said. "I'm merely reminded of one wealthy woman who offered me a thousand coin for the opportunity to kill me."

Silence reigned in the cargo bay for a minute. "Wait, you let some crazy rich bitch _pay_ you to _kill_ you?" Ashley blurted out from her weapon table.

Nameless smiled past Garrus at her. "I did insist on being paid in advance, but yes."

Wrex laughed again. "You are crazy, and I _like_ it."

"Shit, don't tell me that means I owe you money," Ashley said, jokingly.

"I'll waive the fee, just this once," Nameless said calmly. "But it's certainly one way of making money, and seems a better method than trawling the slums for overconfident idiot to try and mug me." Garrus blanched again.

"Actually, I'll just ask Shepard to forward you part of what we took out of Saren's lab on Virmire," he said hurriedly. "Then we can go clothes shopping first, so you don't stick out quite so much."

Nameless gave a small bow of his head. "I defer to your expertise, Garrus," he said gratefully, and turned back towards the elevator. "Liara promised to alert me when we dock, so once we have arrived, I will wait for you in the CIC."

As if to mock him, Pressley's voice came over the intercom. "Normandy crew, we have arrived on Citadel Station. Docking will be complete in sixty seconds. Section Three, assume the watch. Everyone else, shore leave will commence once the commanding officer is ashore."

A ragger cheer came from the salarians, and Nameless let them pile their own belongings into the elevator and head up before him. "That was a nice gesture," Ashley said, somehow managing to discard her armor in the two minutes his eyes were off of her, now dressed in a simple Alliance jumpsuit that, judging from the creases, she had been wearing underneath it.

He shrugged, waiting for the elevator to drop back down for them. "It doesn't gain me anything to push ahead of them. I still have to wait for Garrus and Liara, while they have homes to return to." He paused to cock his head in thought for a moment. "At least, I hope they do."

The gunnery chief eyed him curiously for a moment, then stepped into the elevator with him, Wrex, Garrus, and half the engineering crew. "Whatever you say, dead boy."

Everyone decamped on the medical level, though most of them went instantly up one of the flights of stairs as the VI announced Shepard's departure and Adams in charge of the ship. Turning around towards the medical office, he saw Liara coming towards him, followed by a floating metal ball. Which was chattering away in a familiar voice, and looking out through two small grilles on the front. "Morte?" he asked in confusion.

"Great disguise, huh chief? I'm already picking up the lingo here. I am now a 'virtual interface for disabled recovering marines,' according to Chakwas." He didn't need to see the skull's eyeballs to know that his eyebrows would be waggling. "Pretty 'awesome', I think. This way I can accompany you without anyone staring at me!" Morte stopped, and his voice dropped to a grumble. "Or getting kidnapped and glued to a shelf for a creepy skull collector."

Liara had turned a slightly more purple shade of blue, and Nameless assumed this was the effect of her blushing. "I hope you don't mind," she said diffidently, "but it didn't seem right to keep him locked up on the ship if you're free to explore." She then frowned, gesturing to his loincloth and bone baldric.

"Garrus already has a plan," Nameless said. "We're shopping for clothes first, then sightseeing in one of the 'Wards'." He turned around, to find Garrus standing behind him. "Right?"

The turian grumbled something, and the scarred man smiled. It was obvious to him that the turian was sweet on the asari, though he had no idea how interracial relationships worked in this world. Their walk up the stairs, down the length of the ship, and the wait in the airlock, were all filled with his considering how various crossbreeds would look between the various races on board. He did decide, quite firmly, not to mention this mental woolgathering to anyone on the crew.

Thirty minutes later, Nameless stared at himself in a mirror, feeling rather shocked. The asari storekeeper had rather quickly ruled out fancier clothes, deciding they would simply accentuate his scarred, near-death appearance. Now he looked himself over, in a large but snug shirt, and a pair of rough pants in a black-grey color, with a pair of boots that looked more suited for Wrex than himself. "Does the slogan 'I've got a quad' mean what I think it does?" he asked Garrus doubtfully.

Liara looked thrilled at his appearance, and Morte was chuckling appreciatively. "Chief, you look ready to scare people to death even more than usual." Twitching his mouth in either approval or amusement, Garrus nodded his head.

"Very well then." Nameless reached over to his bone baldric, retrieving his fledgling spellbook and tucking it into a pocket of his pants. Before he could do more, the shopkeeper had produced a bag made of see-through fabric and dumped his old clothes into them. "Thank you."

"Oh no, thank _you_," the asari matron flirted, ensuring her hand lingered on his as he took the bag. "Please, feel free to return for another clothing emergency." Coughing behind a hand as she obviously smothered a laugh, Liara led the way out of the store.

"You're popular as always, chief," Morte said, floating up above their head. "Hey, isn't that Shepard over that way?" It took a moment for everyone to follow his gaze, seeing Shepard standing with her weapon drawn in an obviously posed position. The blond man standing with her did something to his omni-tool as Tali stood by nervously, and catching sight of them, Shepard surreptitiously motioned them over.

"Oh, this'll be good," Garrus said, obviously relishing whatever was about to happen. "Please, don't hold back _anything_ on our account, I'll call in every favor I have with C-Sec if I have to."

Curious about who this person was, Nameless led their little group as they circled around. "Oh, Nameless, funny bumping into you here," Shepard dissembled. "Meet Conrad Verner, head of my fan club."

Before he could even ask what a fan club was, or what the man did, his hand was seized in a quick, though weak, handshake. "Pleasure to meet another member of Shepard's crew," he gushed, and Nameless immediately knew why Garrus wanted the man humiliated. But at the same time, he could feel the aching void of loneliness and lack of purpose inside him.

"I'm the Nameless one," he grated out more harshly than usual, watching the man's face blanch. "Commander Shepard uses me as … target practice." From the corner of his eye, invisible to Conrad, he could see the turian letting loose with obvious glee, already drawing stares from other turians in the market area. "As the head of her fan club, I suppose that means you get to as well."

The blood rushed out of Conrad's face, leaving him even more pale than usual, and stammering an apology, he all but flew down the stairs next to him. As soon as he was out of sight, Shepard and Liara burst into audible laughter, while Garrus was leaning against the wall to remain upright. Only Tali obviously didn't find the situation very humorous, and Nameless turned to her. "I'm guessing you've never had to deal with someone obsessing?"

Her faceplate remained turned towards the stairs, but he thought her faintly glowing eyes were looking at him. "I have," she said simply.

Nameless shrugged. "I hope that's enough to break him out of it. Surrounded by people, he nevertheless walks alone. He has an occupation, that leaves him empty and bereft of purpose. All he can see is a shining beacon in the dark, and turns to it hoping to find his own way." Shepard's laughter had trailed off rather quickly, and Liara was looking faintly ashamed.

Turning back to the two aliens, he spoke lightly, his face friendly as ever. "Shall we continue with our sight-seeing? I think that I'm finished with shopping."

Garrus cleared his throat awkwardly, and nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, um, let's head on over to Flux, I guess, then we can head up to the Presidium."

Two hours later, Nameless stood looking up at the mass relay statue on the Presidium, frowning. After getting banned from Flux for winning five thousand credits in ten minutes (a new record, Garrus informed him) and for Morte trying to pick up the bartender, they walked through part of the park-like atmosphere.

The relay statue had held his attention for the last five minutes, though, as he tried to figure out why the thing filled him with such a sense of foreboding. It was moments like this he missed the integration of the other major parts of his memory. It seemed like since he came to this world, they had been completely silent, never giving him any hints, or awakening any further hidden memories from his past. "What's with the statue, anyway?" Liara asked, obviously bored by now. "Aside from it being one of the few intact Prothean relics."

"It works," he said, a moment before his brain caught up and realized what he said. "I just can't tell you how I know that."

"It's a portal, Chief," Morte said, and the other two stared at him. "An exit-only one, I think." He bobbed up and down in his shrug impression. "I'm no disciple of Aoskar, but my teeth have got the heebie-jeebies."

"That thing is _active_?" Garrus asked, clearly horrified. "We need to go back to the Normandy and let Shepard know right away."

As they turned, Nameless considered pondering it. How did he know the device was active, anyway? The whole thing with becoming an Aoskarian was kind of a whim, and it'd gotten him mazed briefly. Were the gods known on Sigil able to reach this realm, so otherwise devoid of any magic? Even if they could, _would_ they? He had been abandoned by every god he knew of.

Still lost in his own thoughts, he returned down to medical as Garrus cornered Shepard in the CIC and related his warning. Finally sitting down, he closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. He had ten more spells to transcribe before they fled his memory, and he couldn't sleep until he did. Tearing off another long strip of skin, completely oblivious to the crewman Chakwas was currently giving a medical exam to, he began scribing.


	5. Chapter 5

Busy with his task, the first indication Nameless had that anything was amiss was the sudden acceleration of the ship as it turned into a hard bank. Seeing as how he was in the middle of tearing a new strip of skin, it ripped up the middle as he nearly fell out of his chair. Looking up in shock, he met Chakwas' amused gaze. "I did try to tell you to put on the safety harness," she said, before another sudden twist of the ship sent him rolling against one of the medical beds.

"I believe you," he said, rising cautiously to a crouch as the ship dipped heavily and then started to rise. "This place is safe enough, I've been lowering my usual defenses to focus completely on my task."

The door behind him slid open, and Morte floated through, completely unaffected by the unexpected movements of the Normandy. "These guys are awesome, huh chief? Liara had to leave with Shepard, so I've been bored for the last hour. _You're_ no fun when you've got that total focus on spells."

The ship suddenly straightened out in flight, and Nameless rose, Morte coming over to float by his shoulder. "Doctor, is it allowed to see the pilot in action?"

Disengaging her own safety harness and retracting it under her chair, she considered it. "Normally, it wouldn't be a problem. Joker, our pilot, has a bone disease that makes it hard for him to get around, so he has been complaining about not getting to hear your diary entries about your history." She rose and stretched her legs casually. "But we're also in the middle of a combat mission. Joker needs to get us back to the Citadel quickly, because we know whatever Saren is after, it's on the planet we just dropped Shepard off at."

He nodded. "I will be as discrete as I can." He walked out of medical as Chakwas began to lay out trauma kits, doing the last-minute pre-combat checklist. He strode through the ship, quietly as possible, ignoring the few curious glances and annoyed glares from the ship's crew. He could sort of understand it; they were preparing for combat he had no experience in, and at best he would just stay out of their way and help by accident.

At the top of the stairs, he passed behind Pressley, who was (if he understood the ranks and positions properly) in charge when Shepard was gone, even though he thought the late Kaidan had been of higher rank. Moving quickly, he passed through the narrow neck of the ship, glancing at a few of the displays, barely able to comprehend the information beyond seeing numbers and graphs.

In the small pilot area, the man named Joker sat in his seat, fingers and eyes twitching that left Morte snickering. "He looks just like you did half an hour ago," the skull said.

"I do not," Joker said, never losing a moment of his manic focus. "I could get blown up and I'll still look better than he does."

Cautiously, the scarred man sat down in the empty chair, making sure not to touch any of the controls. "I was curious what steering this ship entailed. I apologize if I'm disturbing you."

The pilot snickered, and Nameless looked out the front window as a mass relay swelled from looking small enough to hold in his hand, to a massive structure larger than the Fortress of Regrets. "Trust me, it takes a hell of a lot more than a weird kind of immortal to make me lose my focus. Watch this part, this is cool."

He glanced briefly to the side, then went back to staring out the window, Morte hovering over the back of the chair. As they moved up right next to it, the blue ball of light, surrounded by spinning rings, grew even brighter, reaching out a tendril of lightning to engulf the ship. Nameless tensed briefly, and then in a blink, the entire universe vanished.

He awoke to the sounds of voices. "Seriously?" Joker asked, obviously disbelieving.

"Yep. Wouldn't surprise me if he didn't even realize it." He turned his head to see Morte now floating between them. "You awake again, chief?" the skull asked, and he nodded slowly.

"Yeah. What happened?" He rubbed his neck absently.

"You died again. As usual."

Nameless considered this darkly. "Morte, start keeping track. If I die every time I travel through a portal, then I am working on a very uncertain future."

Joker grinned. "Actually, I thought it was kind of cool. I mean, unlike other dead bodies, you don't shit yourself or start decaying or anything." The pilot flicked his gaze over to look at his temporary co-pilot. "Also, the whole bone outfit just rocks. I couldn't pull it off, I'd be too likely to break one."

Ahead of them, he could see small dots of light, moving rapidly against the cloudy backdrop. "Are those other ships?" he asked, pointing at the brightest spot in the middle.

"Yeah, we're closing on the Citadel fast. Hold on, gotta talk to the fleet." Joker activated the comms, talking rapidly while he steered towards the small element of the human fleet. There were three sets of ships in orbit, plus one lone giant one, protecting the Citadel. As he watched, an even larger ship went speeding towards them from another direction, clearly bent on entering the station.

"Joker, where can I reach the outside?" Nameless asked hurriedly.

"The airlock's right behind me. But you can't go out there, it's vacuum! There's no air to breathe!" The pilot's protestations grew louder as Nameless nearly ripped the seat off its bolts vaulting it, slamming the override for the airlock. It cycled through, the VI protesting the entire time, and he gripped an emergency handle tightly as the air vanished. Morte was probably saying something, but the lack of air meant it went unheard.

Drawing out his spellbook, he skimmed his eyes quickly over several of the most powerful spells, committing them to memory in the course of seconds. Bracing himself carefully, he decided to take a calculated risk. Directly in the squid-like ship's path, he tried to cast the _Mechanus Cannon_.

In hindsight, he still wasn't sure if it was a brilliant stroke of luck, or a horrible error in judgment. Instead of the energy blast from the lawful modron fortress, a gaping hole in reality tore open, the space within a roiling mass of pure chaos, unfiltered by anything so constrained as a plane of existence. The ship attempted to dodge, and largely succeeded, but for one of the legs that clipped the edge. With a mental shriek that must have echoed throughout the entire nebula, the leg tore free, scattering debris as it shrugged off the massive blasts from the defending ships. An instant later, it vanished within the protective arms of the station.

Feeling his eyes starting to crinkle and freeze, Nameless pushed himself back into the airlock to a less exposed position, closing the door and letting the air back in. "-is a really, really bad sign! But don't listen to poor dumb Morte, he's only been hanging around almost as long as you have!" Nameless gave the skull a firm glare, and he reluctantly stopped talking.

As the interior door opened, Nameless strode back through, standing behind Joker's chair. "WHAT THE FLYING FUCK WAS THAT?" Pressley's voice came echoing up the neck of the ship in eerie stereo with the speaker right above Nameless' head. "As far as the sensors are concerned, you just _obliterated the universe_ in a sphere a hundred meters wide!"

Joker, naturally, deadpanned the snark even as he cut their velocity to fall in with the rest of the human ships. "I'll be happy with you just not doing that right in front of us. A hole like that could eat the Normandy in two bites."

Nameless glanced around the pilot station, frowned, and turned to stride back the length of the neck enough to talk to Pressley without shouting. "That was one of my more powerful spells failing in a completely unexpected fashion. I won't be doing it again."

The navigator grinned darkly. "Hell with that, fire at will! Just give me enough warning I can make the fleet get the hell out of your way. You did more damage with that than the Destiny Ascension!" Unsure exactly of how to treat this, he returned to the pilot station.

He dropped back into the seat, ignoring the alarming groan of protest as it stressed the bolts further. "You know, if you keep coming to see me, Chakwas might get jealous," Joker quipped.

"I thought you were unhappy you didn't get to come to story time like Liara and Tali?" Nameless asked, pulling his spellbook out again. _Maybe … this one? Yes._

"Hey, who am I to get between a man and his many beautiful admirers? I mean, you've got Tali, who's totally in that vulnerable teenager stage, and there's a lot of humans who'd want to find out first-hand what's underneath those suits. Then Liara, who's like that hot naïve college graduate chick, old enough to be an adult but still young enough to make you feel like a man."

Nameless considered this for a moment. "No love for the doctor?"

"Heh. Don't get me wrong, Chakwas is a total MILF. Or she would be if she had kids. Especially with that accent, oh yeah. So how you going to seal the deal with all three of them?" He grinned over at the scarred man, hands still moving automatically to control the ship.

Nameless met his stare, and Joker flinched away, in a manner that would have been hilarious if it had been deliberate. "Did you hear the part about how all of my other companions were dead? Including the succubus?"

Morte chimed in at this point. "Oh yeah, Fall-From-Grace was a total beauty. That long blond hair, that skin-tight outfit, those amazing wings!"

"Wait, uh, wings? Like, what, giant feathered wings?" The pilot seemed incredulous at this, and Morte started chuckling. Nameless quickly turned them out to return to his spellbook.

"No, you're thinking of celestials. Succubi have bat wings, but they still look _gorgeous_!" He doubled up on several of his spells as the two prattled on, then Morte's sudden non-lavicious excitement pulled his attention back to the window. "The station's opening again!"

He vaulted out of the seat again, tilting it ominously as one of the bolts gave way with a sharp ping. Even as he ducked into the airlock, he heard Pressley shout, "Take that sucker out!" As Morte started to follow him, he shoved the skull back into the ship, forcing the door closed and grabbing the handle as the air was sucked out again, and opened to space.

As he watched, from between the legs on the underside of the squid-ship came a brilliant beam of scarlet energy, ripping apart one of the non-human ships like a flame through paper. Righteous fury rising within him, Nameless cast out a hand, trying a different spell, though no less powerful.

As though from nowhere, meteors coalesced, streaking between the ships and slamming into the Reaper with massive armor-cracking impacts. It staggered from the sudden onslaught, giving the large friendly ship just enough time to escape behind a screen of friendlies. The squid-ship oriented on the Normandy, and Nameless had a brief moment to fight terror and triumph. _Focus on me now, that's right._

He waved his hand again, setting up a shimmering cube of force around the Normandy, moments before the scarlet beam poured forth, striking it and reflecting harmlessly away from the fleet. It powered forward, beating aside some of the smaller and slower ships, accepting any damage from the glancing blows to charge the mage and his ship, even as all three fleets opened fire with everything they had.

Nameless quickly cast the meteor storm again, frowning as it again took the shuddering blows but continued towards him. It was obviously badly damaged by this point, missing several legs and with multiple full-out armor breaches, but it seemed determined to, at the least, take him out with it. For a moment, he wished he could pause to take a deep breath.

He quickly cast _Enoll Eva's Duplication_, surrounding himself in the two faint discs of blue spinning energy, then ripped his torment rune from his skin. His shout of pain echoed even in the empty void of space, and two giant, whirling runes were blazed through space, engraving violet burning lines into opposite sides of Sovereign. A moment later, the Reaper faltered, the red light dimming, and then it broke apart, fracturing into a kilometers-wide cloud of shattered parts.

Weakly, Nameless staggered backwards to the interior door, beating the airlock control with a numb fist, falling to his knees and gasping heavily as the air came back in. He could almost swear he could feel scar tissue on the inside of his lungs now. As the interior door opened, the sound of cheering washed over him, and in moments, Chakwas and Pressley were there to help him back inside. "Remind me never to piss you off," the navigator said. "Joker! Any word from Shepard?"

"Not yet, sir. The inside of the station got a bit banged up." Nameless tuned out further military speak as he stumbled along beside the doctor. Safely down in medical, she cajoled him up onto one of the tables, running a few scans before finally just giving him a sedative. The last thing he heard before sleep took him was a quiet comment from Morte.

"You should have seen it, doc – he took that Reaper thing out and … what did Ashley say? 'Open a can of whoop ass'?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: I looked at my page, and thought, "Heck, I updated all my other Mass Effect stories today, why not Torment too? So I did._

* * *

Eight hours later, Nameless waited in the office of a reprehensible man named Udina when Shepard and the other five members of her crew stumbled in. Chakwas was already waiting to treat them, now that they had been dug out from the rubble of was the Council chamber. They all sagged into chairs, grateful for the moment to simply be left alone.

"Nameless," Shepard said, and he looked up briefly as he completed the last spell he could record. "Joker said you took Sovereign to pieces."

He nodded, then began binding the strips of skin together. "The flotilla did as much damage as I did. But given that none of the races in your world possess mages among their number, I had a suspicion that this Reaper would not have magical defenses." He smiled slightly. "I was right, though it took my most powerful spells, cast several times, to stop it."

"Good work anyway," she said, and Liara gave him a tired thumbs-up with the hand that wasn't bandaged. "Any chance you can teach me how to do that?"

"Depends," he said, finishing the simple binding and returning his spells to a hole in the skull specially designed for it. "Do you have the next thirty years free to study wizardry?"

Ashley snorted. "Just promise you won't teach any asari," she mock-grumbled. "They have enough of an advantage already." Liara gave the marine an affronted look, only to receive a wink in return.

"One question," Wrex rumbled, waving off the doctor, "how come my tattoo started burning when Sovereign blew up?"

This took Nameless by surprise. "I … don't know," he reluctantly replied. "But I will think on it. In the meantime, if this Udina is going to keep us waiting, I need to continue with my diary entries." Everyone perked up at this, and just as Nameless drew in a breath to start talking about Pharod and the crypts of the dead, the door opened and the ambassador walked in, flanked by Anderson.

"Shepard, glad to see you're up and alive," Udina said, gesturing to her squad. "All of you. The Council has a great number of questions, especially for you," he gestured to Nameless, almost able to hide his distaste of the scarred man.

"Naturally," Shepard griped. "Can we at least get a shower first?"

"I'm afraid not, Commander," Anderson said. "This isn't going to take long, but there's a few things that have to be answered immediately. C-Sec isn't even done clearing the geth out of the Citadel, though they do have them bottled up in only a few locations."

"An armored shuttle is waiting for us," Udina said, standing at the door impatiently. "So let's move."

Tiredly, Shepard and her squad got to their feet and trooped out. Chakwas insisted on accompanying them to monitor their health, and with the addition of another half dozen Alliance marines they rushed down to the shuttle, crowding inside for the short flight to the Council tower.

The main audience chamber was still a wreck, thanks to the fight against Saren's enhancements, but the place was secure, bare but for the Council, a handful of C-Sec officers standing guard near the elevator and aircar landing spots, and themselves. The marines were ordered to stay behind and support C-Sec, and the ten of them walked forward to meet the Council.

"Commander, thank you for your efforts here today. You and your squad," Sparatus said formally. "Without your help, the Citadel would have been lost to Saren and his geth."

"What about the Reapers?" Shepard asked shortly. "This whole thing was an attempt to bring the rest of them back into our galaxy."

"Please, Commander," Valern deflected the question. "We will investigate it fully, as soon as we've assessed the damage. For now, we've brought you here to ask for your recommendation." The salarian glanced at his fellow Councilors briefly. "The effort humanity put forth here, protecting the Council and striking the final blow against Sovereign, not to mention your personal defeat of Saren, are enough of a contribution to galactic society to grant humanity a seat on the Council."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Tevos elaborated. "It won't be immediate – we have to rebuild, and of course it must be confirmed by your own government. But given your deeds, both today and in your weeks as a Spectre, your opinion will hold great weight."

"Anderson," Shepard said, almost without hesitation. "To fight the Reapers, we're going to need someone with military experience."

The three Councilors did little more than exchange glances, though Udina was glaring daggers at the captain from the corner of his eyes. "Now, if you don't mind, we'd like to hear from," Sparatus hesitated a moment before gesturing at Nameless, "I'm afraid I didn't get your name."

"I don't have one," he said simply. _I have a bad feeling about this_, he thought. "The Normandy crew has called me simply Nameless. What do you want?"

He could tell they were less than pleased with his attitude. He was also fairly sure they were dismissing Shepard's claims of the Reapers completely out of hand, afraid to face the possibility she might be right. "We wanted to know how you damaged Sovereign. Communications between the ships were quite clear that the sudden meteor impacts, as well as that purple energy beam and the reflective shield, were your doing."

"I'm an experienced wizard," he said, sure they wouldn't believe him, and from their body language, they didn't. "Allow me to demonstrate," he said, watching their moment of panic. Pulling out his spellbook, he flipped through it to the _Blur_ spell, memorized it quickly, and cast it with a gesture. They were obviously surprised at the sudden flickering image of him, expanded out to take up twice his area, and the shortest one was already using his omni-tool to try and see through the effect.

"How are you doing this? Such technique would be invaluable for soldiers in the field, increasing their ability to avoid hostile fire and biotics." Valern was obviously envious of the ability.

"I'm a wizard," Nameless repeated. "The spells I used against Sovereign were my most powerful, and doing so nearly killed me. From what Shepard and her crew have said, the magic I'm used to is unknown in your universe."

"How long did it take you to become proficient enough to cast those spells?" Tevos asked, obviously hoping for a short answer.

"I'm not entirely sure. If you haven't heard, I have some … memory problems," he dissembled. "From what I do remember, it took me somewhere between two and four decades to progress to being able to throw meteors around."

They conferred briefly, before the asari turned back to him. "Very well, we would like to have you begin teaching as many people as you can in these … _magical_ arts," she ordered, still sounding skeptical. "We will start recruiting students for you immediately."

"Not so fast," he growled, noting her almost flinch. "For starters, it's not possible to teach just _anyone_ how to use magic. They have to have a certain inborn ability, much like your biotics users need to have certain physical changes to use biotic powers. Second, while I'm an able wizard myself, teaching more than a handful of students at one time is a recipe for disaster. Third, if I teach anyone, it'll be at her say-so." He pointed at Shepard. "She pulled me out of the ground and let me come back to life."

The Council, Udina, and Anderson all turned to look at Shepard, who looked uncharacteristically nervous at the attention. "I certainly have no problem with Nameless bringing a small number of students on board the Normandy," she said. "So long as they can cope with shipboard life, he can teach them, making sure they're properly trained for combat."

"Now, with that settled," Tevos started, before Nameless cut her off.

"I already know of one person with the ability, so I think I can find more students."

"Excellent!" Sparatus said, having figured out already that Nameless had taken a dislike to his blue-skinned companion. "We look forward to a status report, then. The more resources at our disposal, the quicker we can move against the geth."

This was a clear dismissal, so they piled back into the crowded shuttle, returning to Udina's office, the ambassador prattling on about how to sort through the maximum number of humans for Nameless to evaluate them. Knowing the sense of timing needed in dropping the sort of bombshell he needed, he waited until they were safely back inside the office before asking the question. "Tali'Zorah, I would like you to become my first apprentice," he said simply, making sure he could see Udina's apoplexy fit from the corner of his eye.

The rest of the squad were obviously happy at the fact, while Anderson was bemused but not unhappy about it. "I, I'd love to," the quarian replied, "but I have to return to the Migrant Fleet to complete my Pilgrimage first."

He turned to Shepard. "Can we take a detour? I know there's a few humans capable, like one of the marines outside, but what little I've heard about the quarians convinces me they need magic far more than any of the Council races do."

"This is absolutely unacceptable!" Udina finally managed to spit out, face bright red with anger. "You can't choose a bunch of outcasts over your own species!"

For the first time in a _very_ long time, Nameless let his anger take control. "I can **choose** whoever I damn well please! My own **species**, with very few exceptions, have been nothing but cruel to me! The **outcasts** of four different races stood beside me and **died** beside me before I came to this world, and two of them have stood beside Shepard every step of her path to defeat Saren. **_You have no power over me!_**" His last words shook the room enough to topple a chair and leave everyone in the room bracing themselves to avoid falling over. Udina had gone pale and trembling with fear by the end, unable to even match his gaze to Nameless.

The tense tableau held for several seconds before he regained control of his temper, and slowly stepped away. Turning more politely to Shepard, he nodded respectfully. "Commander, I am only a guest on your ship."

"Hell with that," she replied, "Welcome to the crew. Tali, can you message the Migrant Fleet, let them know we're bringing you home, and extend Nameless' offer of tutoring?" She glanced at the quarian, who nodded, already fiddling with her omni-tool. "Have you seen any other humans who have the ability you can be sure of?"

He started to nod before they were interrupted by the distinct sound of a grappling hook catching on the balcony railing. Exchanging worried glances, the entire squad drew their firearms, aiming them at it. To everyone's surprise, a sweating Conrad Verner came trembling to the top of the rope, heaving a backpack to the floor and collapsing next to it. "Commander," he panted, "I think, I found, an intact, geth memory core." He gave several more gasps, momentarily oblivious to the weapons pointed at him.

Nameless watched the blond man for a moment, then nodded. "One of your crew, Ray something. And that guy," he pointed at Conrad, who realized in quick succession that he was being talked about, by Nameless, and that his hero was pointed a sniper rifle at him. Conrad proceeded to faint. "He needs some toughening up, though."

"This guy is our future Merlin?" Ashley said dubiously, returning her assault rifle to its stowed position.

"I don't pick the ability, I can only recognize it," Nameless said. "I also can't tell you how strong he'll be in comparison to any of my other students, just that he _has_ ability."

"I wonder how he'll react to Morte," Liara mused.

"If I have to deal with him, I want a raise," Wrex grumbled. "Or a ticket home."

Slumped in the corner, Udina had given up on the whole situation, sipping at a bottle of expensive brandy.

Two days later, on route to the Migrant Fleet, Nameless awoke in the medical bay. Doctor Chakwas had agreed to let him sleep there after seeing him try miserably to squeeze into a sleeping pod. Something had caught his ears, and it took him a moment of straining his hearing to determine it was crying.

Rising to his feet, he padded silently to the back room, triggering the door and surprising Liara as the lights automatically came on. She was slumped on the bunk, face splotchy from sobbing, and he simply walked over to stand before her, extending his hands in invitation. After a moment of indecision, she took his hands, finally throwing herself into his arms and crying in earnest. He held her until her tears subsided, taking a tissue from her desk to help clean her face. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered.

"Don't be," he replied, calmly picking her up and settling her in his lap as he sat down on the bunk. "I'm well acquainted with pain, suffering, and grief."

The simple feel of being in someone's lap, strong arms surrounding her and her ear pressed against their chest to hear breathing and heartbeat, was somehow just what she needed right then. It brought her back to _good_ memories of her mother, not the vicious and jagged memories of her mother struggling against the indoctrination to kill her and Shepard.

Somehow, she managed to stumble over the words of all this, eventually getting her point across while only managing to mostly embarrass herself. The whole time, he was silent, gentle, and trusting, his eyes never leaving the door as he listened to her, his rough hands gentle on her back. She ran out of words slowly, trailing off and closing her eyes as she listened to his heartbeat.

"Torment," he finally whispered. "The grief of loss; the guilt of misplaced responsibility; the pain of watching a loved one die and being unable to stop it. You know it well," he said, and finally she realized that his hands had been tracing that runic tattoo on his arm, the same one he'd given Wrex, on her back with his fingertips. "You felt it before your mother's death, as well, though less severely, am I right?"

She simply nodded, knowing he would understand. "I don't know how I can deal with it," she whispered. "How can anyone stand to go on living when they hurt this much?"

His breath eased softly out of him, and he stayed perfectly still and silent but for his heartbeat in her ear. Finally, he breathed in again to speak. "Chakwas asked me, when I was writing down my spells, why I didn't flinch at using my own skin for spell paper. When I told her that I'd seen another book, written the same way, and that it didn't hurt me to do so, she gave me the saddest look. 'Life is pain,' she said, 'anyone who says differently is selling something.' But she's only partly right."

They sat in silence for several more seconds before he breathed in again, the thud slow and comforting in her ears. "Life is a contrast. You can't appreciate the best parts, the best people, without also seeing something of the worst parts, the worst people. Sometimes," he paused, long enough she thought about glancing up to see if he'd fallen asleep, "sometimes those people are both the best and the worst. Sometimes _you_ are someone else's best and worst."

She considered this, and the automatic sensors on the lights picked that moment to dim to blackness. Still, she didn't move. "Did the tattoo really help Wrex?" she asked.

His chin brushed her top tentacles as he nodded gently. "The tattoo is just a symbol, something concrete for your mind to hold on to. It shows you that no matter how much it hurt, it did not break you. No matter the scars it left, you have more to do, more to experience." They sat in silence for more minutes, enough she was almost asleep, before he spoke again. "Did you want one?"

"Not on my forehead," she murmured sleepily, and his smile went unseen in the dark. "That would just look tacky on an archeologist."

She didn't respond further, and after a few minutes Nameless realized she had fallen back to sleep, peacefully. He thought about laying her down on the bunk, but even as he was thinking it, he fell back to sleep himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Nameless awoke to a sudden light, the swishing of the automatic door, and an overly loud, "Way to go, chief!" from Morte. He squinted against the light, vision quickly resolving into a surprised looking Shepard and a grinning Morte standing in the door. The weight in his arms suddenly vanished as Liara, also awakened by the light, attempted to jump to her feet, only managing to tumble from his lap onto the floor, attempting to wipe drool from her mouth. "No need to stop on my account," Morte leered.

"That's enough," Shepard said, reaching over to smack the skull upside the head, causing him to bobble sideways. "Liara, why don't you go get cleaned up." The asari seized the opportunity to flee the witness to her embarrassment, closing the door before Morte could follow. "I need to talk to you."

He took a moment to rub his face, trying to shake off the dream he'd been having. Naturally, all he could remember was tiny fragments, of a child trapped in the briars of Ravel's maze, and Fell with three symbols spinning above his head too fast to read. "What about?"

She moved over to sit down in a chair by the desk. "Before we take Tali home, I'm fulfilling my orders, and bringing you to Arcturus Station. Admiral Hackett, my superior in the Alliance military, wants to speak to you and Morte face to face. He knows you can't tell us anything about the Protheans or the Reapers, but after hearing about what you did to Sovereign, he insisted on meeting you before you start teaching everyone."

He saw the distaste on her face as she mentioned his three apprentices. "Is there something wrong with my students?" he asked, fairly sure what her answer would be.

"Not really. Petty Officer Tanaka is good, and you know I like Tali, but Conrad Verner? The guy's an obsessed civilian at best, and now you want to turn him into some kind of warlock?" She waved a hand irritably at the bulkhead. "I can't walk through the crew deck without feeling his eyes all over me."

Nameless leaned forward on the bunk intently. "He has talent, obviously, or I wouldn't have asked him. Had he turned it down, like the embassy guard, I would have accepted his choice. But though he seized this chance for the wrong reasons, I have hope for him yet." He folded his hands together in his lap. "He is so _empty_ inside. The accolades he had won with his work, the beautiful woman who loves him, they nonetheless leave him feeling small, useless, and he _burns_ with the desire to have just _one_ moment of importance."

Shepard sighed, dropping her head into one hand and waving the other in his direction feebly. "Yeah, yeah, you told me all of that when you brought him on board. But do you think you can at least get him to keep his creep tendencies on a leash? I'm afraid if he does something stupid in front of Ashley she'll shoot his belly button off or something." They both smiled at that. "At least Wrex isn't here, he might have decided to use Conrad as a melee implement."

"I will speak to him again," Nameless promised. "The greatest aid for his situation is the confidence that comes with mastering his talent. When do I meet with this admiral of yours?"

She rose from the chair, moving towards the door as he followed. "We dock at Arcturus in an hour, and we'll meet him shortly after that. Since this is an unscheduled stop, we shouldn't have to deal with the reporters."

As they exited the med bay, he moved between her and Conrad, catching his student's eyes with a minor glare, and the blond man gulped and returned his gaze to the scrolls they were all studying. He doubted any of them would get it right on the first try, but that wasn't the point of the exercise. "What's a reporter?" he asked as she started up the stairs, and she fully stopped to look at him in disbelief.

"You didn't have newspapers in Sigil? Something more than rumor to pass around important information?" He wasn't sure why this was so important to her.

"There were criers, heralds, and most of the guilds had their own networks of informants," he replied doubtfully.

She shook her head as she resumed climbing the stairs to the CIC. "Unbelievable," he caught, just before the door closed. Shrugging, he returned to observe his students, all three of them eyes glued to the strips of paper (Raymond Tanaka had produced a private stock used for sending letters back to his great-grandparents on Earth, after Nameless mentioned writing spells on strips of skin).

He gave them another few minutes. Conrad's fingers trembled lightly just above the paper as his eyes flicked manically from one spot to another, apparently searching for a pattern in the symbols. Tali was compulsively going over them, one line at a time, though she was now reading them left to right, unlike the top to bottom as she had last night. Tanaka was keeping a tally on his fingers somehow, presumably of how often the different symbols were used.

Nameless activated his omni-tool, glancing at the time before clearing his throat. "Alright. You've all had at least three hours to try and memorize the spell, assuming you slept last night." The last was directed at Tali, who had a reputation for staying up late working on projects. "Now, we go down to the cargo bay for the practical." Reluctantly, they all rose from their chairs, clutching the papers as they joined him in the elevator.

Down below, the bay seemed much emptier without the salarians or Wrex. The quartermaster and his assistant had the contents of a crate scattered across a square meter of desk, trying to find or tally something, and he ignored them, leading his students to the empty area between the Mako and Ashley's weapon table. "Now, put the papers away." Both Conrad and Tali folded theirs up, while Tanaka rolled it, but all of them put the scrolls away. "Ash, pick who goes first."

"Sure, Tanaka. What's this spell do?" she asked, putting down the barrel cleaning tool.

The vaguely Asian man swallowed nervously, stepping in front of the other two. "It's a basic offensive spell, which shoots a blast of light that should feel like a hard punch, from a novice like them." Seeing the eyes go wide on two of his apprentices, he smiled calmingly. "Go ahead and target me. It's not like you're going to kill me."

"That's not very reassuring," Raymond muttered before closing his eyes to meditate for a moment. Pointing a hand dramatically, he rattled off a string of nonsense syllables. Disappointingly, aside from a glow momentarily surrounding his finger, nothing happened.

"Next?" Conrad and Tali glanced at each other, and she stepped forward. Her delivery was less vocal, and less dramatic, and disappointingly had even less effect, not even generating a glow. Or at least, Nameless amended mentally, nothing visible outside her suit. "And last," he gestured to Conrad.

Screwing up his face, he flung his hand at Nameless, and a tiny ball of light did shoot out from his hand, though it hit the scarred teacher to no visible effect. "Alright. I didn't expect any of you to get this spell on your first try," he admitted. "Conrad came close, though. The point was to let you feel the magic energy in your thoughts and in your body. Now, Tali, pull out the scroll and try reading it, instead of holding it in your mind."

Reluctantly, she unfolded her paper, and her helmet nodded slightly as her eyes flicked from the paper to his face, and suddenly a marble-sized ball of brilliant sunset orange light flew from her hand, smacking his shoulder audibly. "That was done perfectly," he said, rubbing the injury.

"That's it?" Ashley scoffed. "Not very impressive."

Nameless stopped what he was going to say, glanced at her with an upraised eyebrow, then back to his students. "Tanaka, read your paper. Ashley, activate your armor."

Grinning, she did so, bouncing on her toes to mock the man. "C'mon, Tanaka, stop trying to hit me and hit me!" Eyes narrowed, he flipped his hand, unrolling the scroll, and read the words. His pellet was a pale jade green, and to everyone's surprise but Nameless, it blew through both shields and armor as though they didn't exist. "Damn, not bad," she said, poking at the molded breast of her armor. "That would have missed by heart by maybe an inch."

Raymond flushed with please (and maybe a little embarrassment) as Nameless caught his students attention again. "Lesson one, technology here doesn't have a counter to magic – _yet_. There's no reason it can't, but right now, you're something special. Lesson two, at your best, each of you has less power than the weakest weapon on that table over there." He waved at the weapon table to illustrate the point. "Power comes with practice, experience comes with practice."

"So we go back up and study this paper until our eyes fall out?" Tali asked, sounding somewhat doubtful.

"Read it again," he said, and she raised the paper, surprised to find it blank. "A mage needs to hold the spells in their mind, to learn how to set aside a piece of their memory like a piece of paper and store the power there. Once it's used, it's gone." He reached into the skull, pulling out three more scrolls. "This one – not dangerous to the crew – is what you'll be studying. Once you have proven you can hold one spell – _this_ spell – we'll move on to more complicated lessons."

It was nothing more than a simple light spell, one he hadn't even bothered to record in his spell book. Taking the pages, they reluctantly split up to study individually, and Nameless went up to the CIC.

Joker was just pulling the Normandy up to an airlock, and he stood at the back of the room, watching the crew work. When Shepard turned around, he nodded respectfully. "Ready for this?" she asked.

"Of course," he responded, and they walked forward to the airlock. Once through decontamination, and a mercifully short series of challenges and salutes from military sentries, they stepped into the station. While the Citadel was large, graceful, and full of lingering light and color, Arcturus was smaller, and somehow filled with the distinctive hustle and bustle of humanity. In a way, it reminded Nameless of the foundry of the Godsmen, filled at it was with thousands of people trying to build their way to a better, brighter, more powerful future.

Right as he reached this revelation, he nearly ran down Shepard as she hissed in anger. "How the _hell_ does … never mind," she growled. "We'll have to detour around," and she was interrupted by the target of her rage, a dark-skinned woman in a flattering red dress, with a device of some kind hovering over her shoulder much like Morte followed Liara around for the last week.

"Commander Shepard! Humanity deserves to know what is being done to combat the geth invasion!" she shouted, causing heads to turn all across the docking concourse. "Please, Commander, a few questions for you," the woman then seemed to catch sight of Nameless, "like what in the hell is that?"

He looked at Shepard, who waved him forward with a clearly ironic after-you gesture. As he stepped up beside her, the floating device turned on a bright light, illuminating them, and he smiled, putting all of his considerable personality into it. "What did you want to know?" he asked.

She all but melted into his arms, despite his appearance, and fifteen minutes later as they walked away, Shepard was still shaking her head. "How do you _do_ that?" she asked. "Have you done something like that to me? I mean, when you first woke up, it was weird and crazy and in the space of five minutes it was _normal_ to stand around chatting with a guy who gets up thirty seconds after I put a bullet in his heart." She put a hand over her mouth as they stepped into an elevator. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"

He had to laugh at that, as the elevator rose astoundingly swiftly compared to the Citadel or the Normandy. "Only a little bit. So, what was that floating thing? Some kind of mimir?"

She puzzled over the word for a moment. "It was a camera. They broadcast images and sound across the galaxy. Do you remember the hologram, er, illusion, of Hackett shortly after you woke up? It's like that, kind of."

"Ah. So, she was attempting to damage your reputation in the eyes of the people." He nodded as they exited the elevator, oblivious to the many staring people in uniform. "Now I understand your anger."

"And you did a good job of containing it and controlling the situation," Hackett said. Shepard quickly came to attention, saluting him, and he returned it before stepping aside to usher them into his office. "It's already on the extranet, Commander. She comes off like a bad audition." The scarred older man turned to Nameless, reminding him of Dak'kon. "You're obviously Nameless." He held out a hand, and Nameless shook it respectfully. "Welcome to Arcturus. Now, tell me about magic," he ordered as they all sat in his office.

The next two hours went by as Nameless dredged up everything his fractured memories of past lives could hold about magic and how it worked, following pointed and insightful questions from the admiral. Finally he leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "I still wish you could teach people faster," Hackett lamented. "But once you get them to the level of capable apprentices, you'll be able to turn them loose and take on new ones?"

"I suppose so, yes," he replied. "I expect that Tali'Zorah will return to her people then, Tanaka will no doubt get reassigned to try and teach students chosen by bureaucrats, and Conrad will," he paused, "actually I'm not sure."

"Probably go back to stalking galactic heroes," Shepard muttered darkly.

"Don't count on it," Hackett admonished her. "The man holds a doctorate in dark energy theory, and he taught for several semesters including guest lectures on Thessia." She blinked in surprise at this information. "But hopefully he will come work for the Alliance as well. What about other non-human students?"

"I don't know," the mage replied. "I've only met the one krogan. Garrus is a decent sort, and most of the turians I've met, however briefly, also seem so. I like Liara, but most of the other asari I've met get on my nerves. I haven't met enough salarians to tell." He turned to Shepard. "I don't know the names for all the other species well enough to say."

Hackett nodded. "I'll talk to my counterparts in the Hierarchy, and work out something to get you some turian students." He rose from his chair, prompting them to rise as well. "Thank you for coming. You've given me a lot to think about, and now I have a lot of work to do. Dismissed, Commander, Nameless." Shepard saluted again, and they left the office. Hackett was already typing on his computer before the door closed.

"So, did that go well?" he asked her as they left the military headquarters.

"Actually," she pondered, "I think so. At least, it didn't go _badly_." She glanced over her shoulder. "That's the first time I've ever met him in person. He's one of our best officers."

Nameless nodded. "I would agree." He would have said more, but the growling of Shepard's stomach was loud enough to interrupt. "I suggest we find a food vendor."

"You read my stomach," she deadpanned.


	8. Chapter 8

As the Normandy prepared to cast off from Arcturus, Shepard received a new message from Admiral Hackett. "Shepard, the Council just forwarded reports of geth activity in the Amada system. It's not too far out of your way to meet the Migrant Fleet, and they'd appreciate you scouting the strength of the enemy so that the turians can send an appropriately sized strike force."

"Understood, Admiral," she responded, nodding to Pressly, who proceeded to prepare their relay path. Two hours later, they emerged in the system, cloaking immediately upon arrival. "What do we have out here?" she queried the technicians.

"Not much, Commander," one of the sensor techs replied. "A pair of sun-scorched rocks, a gas giant, an ice ball, and a planet riddled with biotic deadly wildlife." Everyone was fiddling with their consoles, pushing passive sensors as far as they could. "We can't be sure, but it doesn't look like there's anything in system."

Frowning, she studied the hologram of the system as they slowly cruised closer to the inner planets on leftover inertia. "Joker, swing us past the fourth and third planets. If there's nothing here, we'll report it after we've left."

"Roger that, Commander," the pilot called out, nudging the engines slightly. When they were most of the way to Alchera, another ship appeared behind them from the relay. "Commander, we've got an unknown ship on our tail."

Before she could order anything, the sensor techs were already routing passive data to the holo display – mass, dimensions, speed – and both she and Pressly stared at it. "What the hell is that?" he asked. "That's no geth ship, it looks like it out-masses the Destiny Ascension!"

"I don't recognize it either," she said cautiously. "Tell me the stealth measures are up," she ordered the ensign in charge of that system, and after a brief check, he gave her a thumbs up.

"Then how the hell is that thing moving to intercept?" Joker called out from the pilot seat. "It definitely knows we're here!"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Shepard shouted. "Pressly, I'm getting in my armor. You have the conn. Screw stealth mode, get us out of here, Joker!" She turned, dashing for the doors and all but flying down the stairs.

In the mess hall, just as she went flying past, the General Quarters alarm started sounding. Tanaka, having just successfully cast his light spell for the first time, nearly went tumbling to the floor as he tried to turn and run for the damage control locker. Nameless, back up from the momentary relay-induced death, steadied him on his feet, blocking another crewwoman from running over Tali on her way to the elevator and Engineering. Before she could get past him, a crawling sensation in the back of his skull made him grab her instead. "Take Conrad, get in a life pod," he said, struggling to remember the proper name.

"But –" she started to protest.

"Just do it!" he ordered harshly. "Something isn't right here! You need to be safe!" The door to med bay opened, and Liara peeked out, Morte hovering above her head. "Same for you two! Get in a life pod and stay there until this is all over." Shepard had just exited her quarters and was about to grab her personal weapons from her locker when the ship shuddered from a sudden massive impact.

In moments, the crew deck was empty, everyone scattering to the escape hatches as the ship VI started dispassionately listed off the damage being dealt to the ship – drive core offline, engineering vented to space, cargo deck _missing_, and, even as he helped the commander to her feet, it reported the CIC was now open to vacuum.

She sealed her helmet, and he followed doggedly on her heels as they went up the stairs. When the door opened, evacuating the air, the gravity plates suddenly disengaged as well. Carefully grabbing onto the back of her armor, Nameless let her tow him along, catching sight of the planet through the gaping ceiling. Their attacker wasn't visible from his angle, and he tried to dampen his fury. If only he could see them, he could pull off a meteor barrage strong enough to cripple a Reaper!

When they stumbled through the field holding atmosphere in the cockpit, he didn't even wait to hear Shepard's orders or Joker's protests. Grabbing the seat by the base, he bodily ripped the entire thing free, dumping Joker quickly but not _completely_ carelessly into an escape pod. Hearing the snap of brittle bones, Nameless took a moment to do a blood bridge spell, watching his own forearm suddenly bend in the middle.

Before they could do anything more, a yellow beam of light speared through the neck of the ship, separating it. The escape pod launched, and both he and Shepard were left spinning in the vacuum of space, slowly falling towards Alchera with the debris of the Normandy. Able to see their attacker now, a kilometers-long cylinder of rock and metal, he tried in vain to howl his fury. Three times, meteors coalesced from nothing to slam into the ship, breaking off building-sized slabs of stone, yet failing to cripple it as it turned away to return to the mass relay visible as no more than one more star against the background.

Blackness overtook him then, the cold, lack of air, and radiation of space catching up to him.

* * *

When he awoke, it was the cold he felt the most. With great effort, he fought his fingers' desire to freeze solid, picking himself up out of the icy crevasse formed by his impact with the planet. He kept moving for only minutes, the atmosphere toxic and unbreathable, his own regenerating the only thing that kept him from falling instantly dead again.

This cycle continued, a few minutes of life followed soon by the blackness of death, as he fought to explore the wreckage quickly and find some kind of shelter from the bitter cold and harsh atmosphere. On his eighth life (or was it nine?) he found a suit of armor belonging to one of the crew, and donned it quickly. The filters and internal air supply would, at least, give him a few hours to try and find a more permanent solution.

Though part of him wanted to save his breath, Nameless knew there was one more important task to do. He activated his omni-tool, continuing his diary entries, narrating to himself as he picked through the wreckage. If he couldn't find some kind of shelter, then his memories would certainly be gone, and without a diary to remind him who he was, he might never discover how he came to this universe or why his attempt to destroy his mortality for good had failed.

By the time the armor's air failed, he had found several surprisingly intact oxygen canisters from the medical supplies, the less-surprisingly intact Mako, and one badly charred body, belonging to one of the crew, identity unknown. The hatch to the tank opened, and he mentally thanked Garrus as he dragged the corpse inside. The VI purged the methane and ammonia from the interior, and Nameless gratefully removed the helmet and dropped his load of air tanks.

He paused in narrating for a moment, looking at the body, before reaching within himself for one of his abilities he hadn't shown Shepard or Chakwas, the ability to bring the recently deceased back to life. He _hoped_ this was Shepard's body – they had been falling fairly close to each other, after all – and made sure to narrate it as well into his omni-tool.

To his disappointment, it was Pressly he had found, not Shepard. "Nameless?" the navigator said blearily. "Where – what – why are we in the Mako? Who attacked us?" More questions were cut off by a sudden bout of shivering. They both quickly searched the interior, in vain, for blankets or any way to stay warm.

"I don't know how much time we have," the scarred man said. "Our attackers escaped after destroying the Normandy. Most of the crew made it to the life pods, but Shepard and I were ejected into space." He glanced at the hatch back to the outside. "I was hoping you were her." The armor's electronics gave a beep, and then turned off. "Unless you've got some bright ideas, we're going to freeze to death down here."

"That should be easy for you," Pressly stammered out, his teeth already chattering. "How did you bring me back? I know I died when that shot pierced the CIC."

"Magic, of course. I can only do it a few times, then you'll be gone forever." He was starting to feel the cold again himself, the heat from exertion and the suit warmers wearing off faster than he expected. "One of these times, I'm going to wake up without my memories, and I won't be able to do it again."

"Do me a favor," the navigator muttered. "Unless we're getting rescued, don't bring me back again." He curled up in a ball in the driver seat, the full body shakes already subsiding as the cold started dropping his temperature to hypothermic levels.

Nameless hesitated only a moment before nodding. He continued with his diary narration, speaking of the Brothel of Slating Intellectual Lusts and meeting the succubus who followed him and died. The whole time he spoke, his eyes never left the face of Charles Pressly, even after the merely human man slipped away and died again.

* * *

_An indeterminate amount of time later_

He awoke, in cold and darkness, locked in a steel coffin. No matter how much he ranted and raged, he could not escape his prison. It took some time, with a few more bouts of unconsciousness, but eventually his hunger reached a point where it was worse than his fear, worse than the cold. Lifting one stiff arm of his unnamed fellow prisoner, he started ripping jagged frozen mouthfuls of meat. It was hard to chew, frozen as it was, but he would not allow himself to die like this. He would do anything to survive.

_Anything_.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: Since at least one reviewer couldn't tell, yes, the last chapter ended with a different Nameless eating part of Pressly. Not all of Nameless' avatars have been anywhere close to sane, let alone kind._

* * *

_January, 2185, Alchera_

Shepard simply stood for a moment and stared around. Most of the wreckage of the original Normandy had crashed in about a square kilometer area, though she would have expected it to spread out more. Garrus had piloted the shuttle down with her, though he had stayed inside it to give her the space to explore for herself. _So many dead,_ she thought. _I wonder what good a monument out here is really going to do?_

She spent the next hour walking around, circling the pieces of debris and reminiscing on the crew lost. It galled her that most of the names she could hardly put a face to anymore. The Normandy had been a small ship, true, but she'd only been aboard it for a few months, and most of her time was spent around a relatively minor group of the crew, as well as her alien recruits.

She saved the Mako for last, smiling as she remembered all the times driving it around various backwater planets in the Verge or the Traverse, booster-jumping right off of mountains just to watch the normally-unflappable Ashley turn pale and cross herself, or Garrus twitching as he fought the urge to leap out of his harness and curl up on the floor.

On a whim, she moved over to one side, hitting the manual access for the door, and yanking it open a couple of inches, all she could manage against the gravity without the mass effect fields to aid it. It came as a complete shock when a blue, scarred hand and forearm flopped bonelessly out of the open door. "Holy shit," she murmured, before activating her omni-tool. "Garrus, get your scaly butt out here! Nameless is here!"

Leaving the door pinching the arm ominously, she raced for the nearest section of wreckage, calibrating a plasma burst to cut off a length of metal ship strut, which she hefted and ran back to the Mako. Garrus was already pushing on the door, so she shoved the strut into position to hold it up. Carefully they maneuvered in concert to shove the door open further, kicking the strut across the permafrost until the door was wide enough to see the interior.

The Nameless that greeted them, once they dragged his body outside, looked far worse than he had on Eden Prime. New scars criss-crossed his eyes and throat, and his left hand was missing, the stump covered in raw wounds. "What the hell did he do to himself?" Garrus wondered.

Shepard looked around at the bleak landscape. "Went crazy, maybe? This place is a frozen over hell, and the atmo isn't even breathable. Trapped in there, the power eventually ran out, he ran out of anything breathable, and at some point he gave up." Boosting herself up, she shone the dim helmet lights around. "There's someone else in here too."

Without needing the words, Garrus grabbed the soles of her boots, shoving her high enough to scramble inside. There was still enough left of Pressly to recognize, which she found quite bizarre, especially since his dog tags had still been near the CIC wreckage. The corpse was frozen solid, curled up into a ball, the meat of one arm jagged and missing. Swallowing against the sudden fear in her gut, she nevertheless managed to get him moved close enough to the door to pass the body to her friend.

Grimly, they loaded both bodies into the shuttle. Nameless' corpse was only now showing signs of freezing solid, and though it pained her to do so to someone she had considered, well, not a friend, but a worthy associate, she put restraints on his elbows and ankles. Her heart heavy, she placed the monument at the edge of the ice, just below the peeling paint of the name of the ship, and took another moment to simply take in the view.

"How much do you think Emily Wong would pay for an exclusive like this?" Garrus asked, making her jump. She hadn't heard him coming up behind her, so lost was she in her own thoughts.

"Isn't that a little, well, mercenary for you?" she responded, turning back towards the shuttle.

He gave a very human shrug. "Maybe. Still worth considering, though. Unless the media gets the word out, nobody's going to see this. They might remember the crew, maybe, as some footnote of 'died as heroes during the geth insurrection.'"

She sighed, defeated, and strapped herself into one of the seats, staring at the two bodies they were returning with. "I've only been back from the dead a week, Garrus," she complained. "Am I the only person who's not sure I can do this?"

She heard him trying to smother a laugh that came through his subharmonics anyway. "Probably. I heard about Tali – but I bet she'll come around. I mean, even your Alliance leadership still believes you're the, what's that human expression? The best thing since baked bread?"

"Sliced bread, but yeah, I get your meaning." It was enough to make her smile. For now, that would have to be enough.

Back on board the Normandy, Jacob was waiting when they arrived, along with Chakwas, Joker, Donnelly and Daniels, all five of them in the closest they had to dress uniform. EDI piped aboard the late Pressly as they carried his corpse out and placed it on a stretcher, the group saluting in perfect unison. It was enough to bring tears to Shepard's eyes. "Thank you, everyone." She glanced at Garrus. "I'm guessing you arranged all this?"

To her surprise, Jacob stepped forward. "He only passed along the message, Commander. We all might have left the Alliance, but that doesn't mean we stopped respecting the good people who serve her."

Daniels nodded along with him. "I never met the guy, but he was a member of the Normandy, and he died from some damn sneak attack. He deserves the respect."

"If it's alright," Jacob continued, "I was going to organize a small ceremony in the starboard observation lounge."

"I tried to suggest we hold a traditional Irish wake," Donnelly groused, "but Taylor wouldn't hear of it."

It took her several moments, and two swallows, to speak past the lump in her throat. "Sure. Maybe we can get Nameless to wake up by then and tell us what happened to them both." Garrus had already rolled his body onto a stretcher as well, floating it out of the shuttle.

Joker and Chakwas, the only people who had met him before, both stared in shock. "Damn, and I thought he was ugly before," the pilot said softly. "What happened down there?"

"No idea. Their bodies were both inside the Mako, so they obviously somehow survived on the surface long enough to get inside." She turned to their doctor. "Nameless talked about losing his memories and waking up with a different personality. I'm worried that's what happened, so don't remove the restraints until we know he's not a danger to anyone." She looked pointedly at the stump of his left arm. "Himself included."

"Not to worry, Commander," Chakwas said soothingly. "I'll take good care of him, and get Pressly's body prepared for transfer to his family." They rode up the elevator in silence, two stretchers and the doctor.

Mordin met them in med bay just as Garrus rolled Nameless' body onto an empty bed. "This is the immortal man. Sounded illogical, impossible. Saw vid of you shooting him." Shepard's eyes raised at that. "Bootleg copy on extranet, posted by Chief Williams. Suspicious at first, suspected fraud."

Naturally, that was the moment Nameless opened his eyes, sucking in a heaving breath and darting his eyes around the room wildly. "Nameless, are you okay?" Chakwas asked, moving closer and gently pushing Mordin to the side. "Do you remember me?"

His eyes darted wildly around, seeming to ignore her words, before he locked his eyes on her face. Silence reigned in the room for a bare second, then he suddenly began screaming, a full deep bellow full of pain and horror that caused everyone in the room to recoil from him. His body arched up off the bed, heels and head only touching the surface, then suddenly as it started he collapsed, falling off behind the bed.

Silence ruled the med bay again, until the soft rasp of his movement and a clink of bone came from behind the bed. "Spirits, what _was_ that?" Garrus asked.

"I don't know," Shepard said, drawing her SMG, "but let's not take any chances." She stepped around the bed, pointing it down at the man who stared up at her in mystification. "Are you good now?"

Nameless attempted to sit up, then looked at his ankles, and clearly strained against the restraints at his elbows. "I feel fine," he said, his voice a melodious bass rumble. "I am quite confused as to why I am cuffed on the floor." He looked up at her. "Or why you're pointing a gun at me. Or who you are."

"Damnit," she said, putting away the SMG. "Garrus, help me get him back up onto the table, at least." This Nameless didn't flinch when he caught sight of his first alien, at least, though he regarded Mordin with clear distaste. "What do you remember?"

He opened his mouth in confidence, but no words came out, his expression slowly drawing down into confusion, helplessness, and slow burning anger. "Until I awoke on the floor just now, nothing at all. I don't know who I am, or even how I'm speaking with you."

"Hand regrown, appears fully articulated," Mordin suddenly said from behind him, and the scarred man flinched as Mordin poked the new flesh. "Tattoos and scars unbroken, as though injury had never occurred. Curious."

"Don't do that," Nameless said, his voice full of menace and the quiet promise of pain. "I am not a lab experiment."

Without a moment of hesitation, the salarian walked around the bed, stood in front of him, and looked up into his eyes. "Apologies. One sacred rule in science: Never experiment on species capable of calculus. Never broken it. Want to know how your healing works, yes, but _ethically_. Observation only."

They stared at each other in silence until Mordin turned and moved over next to Chakwas' desk, pulling up his omni-tool and making notes. "Look, this is going to sound weird, but I knew you. Or, a different you, rather. It's kind of complicated," Shepard said, exasperated. "You called yourself the Nameless one, and had, from all the evidence available, come here from a different universe. You told me that if you died too many time, you could lose your memories." All she got for her explanation was a blank stare. "So if you don't mind, I'd like to call you Nameless, unless you've got another one I can call you."

"I do not." He stared at her for several more moments, long enough to start to make her shoulder blades itch with nervousness. "What am I to call you, then?"

"I'm Commander Shepard," she said. Suddenly remembering something, she turned away. "Mordin, was his omni-tool still on his arm?"

"No. No technology." Nameless attempted to crane his head over his shoulder to look at his still-restrained forearms.

"Alright. Take Jacob and Zaeed, if he's interested. Go back down to the surface, go over every inch of the inside of that Mako and the crash site. See if you can find out what happened to it." She turned back to her scarred guest. "Before you died, you had started recording a diary of your experience in your home universe. Including what made you immortal. Hopefully, if we can find it, and you can listen to it, it'll bring back some of your memories."

"Am I to remain bound until it is found?" he asked, his flat voice somehow conveying the implacable menace of a caged predator. "I give you my parole, I will harm no one on your crew."

"You'll harm no one save at my orders," she countered, and it took a moment before he raised his chin in agreement. "Garrus, go ahead and take off the restraints." She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I've got to figure out how to explain all of this to Admiral Hackett."

"Shepard," EDI's voice suddenly came on, "the Illusive Man is waiting to speak with you."

"And him," she groaned. "Doctor, let me know if you need anything."

"Understood, Commander. Now then, let's start by checking your vitals." The rest was cut off as Shepard left, Garrus on her heels.

"Shepard," he started, and she paused before the elevator. "Are you sure about this? I realize I'm hardly the galaxy's best judge of character," he paused, obviously thinking about his squad on Omega, "but this Nameless … there's something very, very _off_ about him."

She looked up at the scarred, familiar face. "Garrus, most people would say the same as you if they met you as 'Archangel.' So what gives?"

He hesitated a moment, considering his words. "Do you remember that doctor we hunted down? Saleon?" She just nodded, staring at the closed elevator doors. "That's who he reminds me of."

"I'll keep it in mind," she said, finally pushing the button, the doors swishing open instantly. _EDI must have been waiting for me_, she thought. Garrus hesitated, obviously wanted to say more, but with a twinge of regret she pushed the button and the doors closed on him. _Might as well deal with TIM now, before he decides to do something like activate the self destruct._ "EDI, this ship doesn't have a self-destruct, does it?"

"I am sorry, but a block prevents me from answering that question," came the expected response. Sighing, she ignored Kelly, going through the currently empty lab to access the QEC.

"Shepard, EDI informed me that you found the scarred immortal on Alchera," TIM said as the hologram formed around her. "How is he doing?"

"He's alive," she pointed out dryly. "But unfortunately, he doesn't remember anything before waking up in my med bay. So no magic."

"That's disappointing, but I can work around it." _Boy, that's not geared to worry me at _all, she thought sarcastically. "I was wondering if you'd ask him to volunteer for biotic testing."

This threw him, enough that she didn't carefully consider her responses the way she usually did. "But he can't be a biotic, he's from a whole different universe."

"Not that kind of testing. He's immortal – if he consents, we have theoretical data about what causes the eezo nods to form in human biotics. We could try implanting them in him."

She cut him off before he could get it out any further. "You want to cut him open and inject element zero into his _nervous system_? Hell no!"

His face put on that tight-lipped, I-think-you're-an-idiot face again. "I'm not asking you to strap him down to a table and take a rusty scalpel to him, Shepard. Just ask him if _he_ wants this. If not, I'll accept that. If he accepts, though, we could figure out how to _make_ people into biotics. You can't tell me your life wouldn't be a whole lot easier if every crewmember had their own biotic abilities."

It took her a moment to put the rage in check, though her poker face didn't waver. "Fine. I'll ask him. I don't expect he'll agree, because even if he doesn't remember, I expect he'll still want to get revenge on the Collectors for spacing him and stranding him for two years on a frozen planet." She cut the signal before he could make any more smug comments.

Sighing, she strode out into the small hallway and rested her forehead against the wall. "For crying out loud," she muttered, then turned to go into the Armory. "Jacob?"

"Back here, Commander," and she looked towards the rear, where the very fit soldier was half under a table, hunting for something. "Dropped a calibration washer. Found it!" He backed out from under the table and stood up, waving a flimsy metal disc between his fingers. "What can I do for you, Commander?"

"I wanted to ask you something. Kind of personal." She moved over to the table opposite his usual work bench, hiking one hip onto the edge. "If it were possible to give someone biotic powers, as an adult, mind you. Would you … what would you say to someone who wanted to do it?"

His eyebrows went up at the question. "Not really what I was expecting," he said honestly, leaning back on his elbows and staring at the ceiling. "I'm not sure, Shepard," he finally responded. "I guess it would depend on what was involved and why they wanted them." He dropped his head to look at her, and raised one hand, summoning biotic power around his fist. "I'm used to them now, but learning how to use them was still pretty scary. And that's without considering all the problems with the L1 and L2 implants." He shrugged. "Did our boss call you to offer you biotics, too?"

"No, no, nothing like that." She stood in silence, staring blankly through him as she considered his response. "Thanks." He watched her leave, confused as to what the heck was going on, before shrugging it off and getting back to work like a good soldier.

She walked around, asking a few other people like Joker ("Are you kidding, Commander? If I had biotics I'd have broken twice as many bones by now."), Zaeed ("Goddamn useful, that's what it'd be. There was this one mission …"), and Mordin ("Salarian biotics extremely rare. Would be considerable status symbol. Also helpful with experiments."). When she finally stepped back inside the med bay, she raised an eyebrow at the doctor. "Don't worry, he's not asleep, just thinking."

"Quite a bit," Nameless added, "mostly about what I know and why. I'm familiar with seven alien species, though I can't explain my antipathy for the salarian. Nor why I get hungry when I think of batarians." He swung himself up to a sitting position with an agility that made Shepard jealous. "What can I do for you?"

She thought for a moment about trying to imply things, before deciding to stick with the strict, blunt truth. "The man who built this ship, and employs us, runs an organization dedicated to the promotion of humanity. He wants to know if you'll consent to be a lab rat in an attempt to figure out how to implant biotic powers."

"Hmm. Power is tempting, of course," he temporized. "Still, the thought of being experimented upon, no matter how well meaning the people, is quite simply unacceptable. Tell Jack the Ripper that my answer is no."

Smirking at that, she left the med bay. "EDI, pass his response along. Complete and unedited."

"Very well, Commander," the AI responded.

* * *

_Author's footnote: I really wanted to work in an "I am a meat popsicle" joke, but couldn't figure out how to do it without seeming totally disrespectful._


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: I wasn't going to update Torment twice in two days, but Jack insisted on some screen time. I don't think this is what she had in mind._

* * *

Mordin did return with a heavily-damaged omni-tool, adding it to his list of projects, and Shepard spent two hours writing, erasing, and re-writing her report to Hackett, finally giving up on anything but the bare bones of the situation.

TIM had sent her another three dossiers, so in between hours and hours of robo-mining unexplored planets, she perused them. Nameless had, true to his word, been exceedingly careful not to harm any of the crew, but she'd already received complaints from Kelly, Daniels, Joker, and even Miranda (though the beauty would probably object strenuously to it being called a "complaint") about his behavior. He was well spoken, yet despite his careful words, his gaze and mannerisms were all full of a quiet menace, like the shadow of a movie serial killer cast on one of those Japanese rice-paper doors – nothing holding it back but a thin veneer of civility.

He'd even tried to intimidate her, at which point she set his head on fire, watching him calmly grope his way to the emergency fire extinguisher Gardner kept in the kitchenette and put it out, the flesh regrowing in a smooth motion. He hadn't tried it again … but far more crew members were choosing to take their meals at their stations or in their quarters. The ventilation was also the cleanest it had been since the SR-2 was constructed, and the quality of the food hadn't dropped, not that there was much further down to go.

Sighing, she left her desk, taking the elevator to the CIC. "Joker, set course for Osun. This should be easy as getting Zaeed on board." She considered it as the galaxy map shifted to show their relay course, and then sighed. "EDI, please inform Zaeed and Nameless to suit up. I'll take them along with me. Just to look nice and threatening."

Their trip there took a leisurely two hours, most of it spent boosting to and from the system's mass relays, until finally the prison ship Purgatory was visible. _Why is my life full of places synonymous with death? Elysium, Afterlife, Purgatory, next I'll visit Nirvana maybe?_ Trying to clear her thoughts, she took the elevator down to the shuttle bay, finding Zaeed and Nameless already waiting on her. Zaeed was armored up, but, "Nameless, I thought I ordered you to suit up?"

His smile, as usual, did not reach his eyes, reminding her of a shark. "I did search the supplies in the armory. Mr. Taylor was quite helpful in that regard. However, none of the suits of armor on board can be made to fit me without extensive fabrication." He adjusted the bone baldric, showing her a modern web belt beneath it. "I do, however, have a shield generator, which combined with my regeneration should be sufficient for any trouble."

"I made sure he's armed, Shepard," Zaeed said. "Had some new energy talons I picked up two jobs ago from a krogan. Used them to hamstring the bugger." She irritably waved a hand at his usual stories. "Why are we down here, though? Why not docked at the airlock?"

"Because I'm paranoid." She leveled a glare at the mercenary. "Is that alright with you?"

"That's goddamn amazing," he said, with a rare smile. "Not enough people are."

"Are we going to talk, or go collect our newest crew member?" Nameless interrupted, clearly bored.

They climbed into the shuttle, and she let Zaeed pilot it just to ensure she was the first one out the door. "EDI, lock down the shuttle, nobody but us leaves." She strode out confidently, with Nameless hulking behind her and Zaeed ghosting behind him fingering his assault rifle. "You have a package for me," she said to the first bare-faced turian she'd ever seen.

He led her through the prison, leaving her to speak with a couple of the prisoners before finally exiting into a room and being told to step into cells, one for each of them. Zaeed's rifle was already out as he kicked over a desk for cover. "Paranoia is a goddamn blessing, Shepard," he said, sighting at the door.

Nameless, however, simply stood in the middle of the room as she took her own shelter and unfolded her sniper rifle. "What are you doing?" she shouted at him.

In response, he raised an eyebrow, remaining still as a Fenris finished taking down his shields. "You made me promise not to harm anyone without your permission."

"For crying out loud," she muttered, sniping a batarian as he raised his shotgun. "You have permission to kill anyone on board that's not with us!"

Gleefully, he picked up the Fenris with one hand, cracking the frame as he crushed it against his knee, then hurled it at the turian in the doorway with enough force to smash him all the way to the end of the hallway, where the mech shorted out anticlimactically. In a smooth motion, two blade handles appeared in his hands, and flickering blue-purple blades of eezo-controlled energy burst from the back of another turian as Nameless slammed the handles into him, before crossing his arms and ripping the merc in half.

"I hope you've got a better leash than just your goddamn say-so, Shepard," Zaeed muttered. _So do I_, she thought uncomfortably to herself. The scarred immortal was a veritable storm of death as they followed him down the hallway. His shield stayed up for mere moments, but the bullet wounds he took healed in bare seconds as he sliced, diced, and simply threw enemies away.

When they reached the console, Shepard quickly hacked it, opening all of the cells. She did kind of hate to let loose all of these prisoners, most of whom were quite clearly insane murdering psychopaths, but since she already had one, possibly two, and was adding another one … well, after what Kuril had just tried to pull, she didn't feel sympathy for the guards.

As they watched Jack blow through the mechs, Nameless' blades flickered out, and he pressed fingertips to the window, watching her move. "I really must find out the name of her tattoo artists," he murmured.

Shepard and Zaeed looked at each other in horror. "Please tell me he didn't just discover his dream girl," she whispered.

"I goddamn hope not," he muttered under his breath.

"If you continue that with, 'But it reminds me of this one mission,' I will shoot you right now," she warned him, only half-serious as they moved towards the exit.

"No," he replied, popping a new heat sink into his Vindicator, "but you just did." Grinning at her growl of frustration, he blew off the head of a prisoner before Nameless could reach him, then grinned even more when the scarred man turned around to glare while ignoring the prisoner repeatedly shanking him in the kidney. "Sorry mate, had a perfect shot lined up. Hated to waste it." The only response was one giant hand reaching over his shoulder, grabbing the escapee by the eye sockets, and wrapping him around the door frame.

"Let's just please, _please_ get out of here before anything _else_ goes wrong," Shepard pleaded. They fought their way through two more rooms, with Nameless simply muscling his way through Kuril's shields while the other two held off guards and prisoners alike, before ripping off his mandibles and choking the warden to death with them. As he started to stand up, Shepard shouted, "No, you may _not_ keep them as trophies!" Scowling, he dropped the mandibles back to the floor, and joined them.

Jack was standing in front of the shuttle, cursing as she tried vainly to hack past EDI and gain entrance. "Jack? Or do you prefer Subject Zero?" The biotic whirled around, raising one fist already wreathed in power. "Calm down, we're here to rescue you."

"In a Cerberus shuttle? Hell no!" Shepard holstered her own pistol, still holding a vague hope of calming her down.

Nameless stepped forward. "Commander, allow me. I'll just knock her out, and we can load her in the shuttle and be on our way."

Jack snorted, sizing him up. "C'mon and fucking try it, corpse breath." He stepped forward, and she hit him with a shockwave, shattering his shields as Shepard and Zaeed scrambled out of the way. As he continued to step forward, Jack pulled her pistol, putting three rounds into his chest in a perfect triangle over his heart.

This was enough to stop him, momentarily, as he fell to his knees, the wounds already healing. "What the fuck?" Jack said, pressing herself back against the shuttle, then putting two rounds in his forehead, sending brains and bone chunks splattering between Shepard and Zaeed. "I'm not going with Cerberus!" she said, now aiming her pistol at Shepard.

"Relax, Jack. I'm Commander Shepard, of the Normandy. I don't know if you were on ice for the whole battle at the Citadel and the destruction of Sovereign. I'm not Cerberus." Whatever else she might have said was cut off, as Nameless suddenly surged to his feet, one hand around Jack's throat and the other holding her gun hand by the wrist with a sudden crack of bone.

"You are a sheer delight," he all but purred, bringing her face close enough for him to rub his cheek against hers like a cat. "But really, darling lady, you must so _learn your place_." She spat at him, and he body slammed her against the side of the shuttle hard enough to crack ribs and possibly her skull.

"Nameless! You promised not to hurt anyone who was with me!" Shepard shouted, her pistol out and pointed at his head, Zaeed's finger already tensing on the trigger as he aimed lower on the spine.

"And as she has quite vocally protested, she is not with you, Commander," he gloated.

"I'm with Shepard," Jack managed to rasp out through the fingers wrapped around her throat. "I'm with Shepard!"

His gloating face slowly turned to a scowl, and with deliberate care he lowered her to the ground, releasing both hands. "Before you do anything rash, m'lady," he said quietly, "do recall that you just shot my brains all over the deck behind me, and I then _got up anyway_." With those parting words, he knocked on the shuttle, and ducked inside the moment EDI opened the door.

Jack tried to talk, coughing as Shepard stepped up to administer medigel. "What the _fuck_ is he? Another Cerberus experiment?"

They boarded the shuttle, being careful to avoid the brooding immortal. "I'll tell you when we're on board. The ship _is_ Cerberus, but I'm not, nor are most of the crew. I'll take you to Doctor Chakwas once we're aboard."

The short ride back to the Normandy was spent in total silence, no one wanting to do anything to provoke Nameless, just in case.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: So we've finally reached Horizon. Don't worry, Ashley is still a bitch, and several chapters down the road Nameless will get his own loyalty mission. Which reminds me, I really need to beat AC: Revelations, so that I can go back and replay ME2 to remember the order everyone's missions show up as available. Thank you as always for the reviews, and thank you to the communities who read my fics!_

* * *

Life proceeded in a somewhat boring fashion aboard the Normandy. Boring was relative, of course, in comparison to their missions, as several crewmembers would have considered the hijinks of the crew nerve-wracking, hair-raising, or any number of other descriptors.

As if to confirm Shepard's greatest fears, Nameless was all but stalking Jack through the ship. Curiously, he had listened when the biotic named her corner of the engineering sub-deck off limits, but when she visited any other part of the ship she could depend on acquiring a hulking, scarred shadow. She'd even given Joker (the only crewmember unable to flee) quite a show when she half-accused half-offered to screw his brains out if he'd quit following her, dropping her pants after she was cornered behind the pilot chair.

Bringing Grunt on board did nothing to curb the immortal's violent tendencies, and after seeing the vid of Nameless picking up the Eclipse mech and beating their leader to death with it, the young krogan had even turned to Nameless as a sort of violent folk hero. Which she should have expected, given krogan tendencies.

Wisely, Shepard left Nameless behind when she went to recruit the thief, Kasumi, who oddly seemed to be the only person utterly unafraid of the immortal. She'd even been known to tweak his nose, both literally and figuratively, running interference for Jack. True to his word, he never harmed her, though there were some tense moments on the rare occasions when he managed to get his hands on her.

Most of these moments happened while en route to Horizon, the six hour flight from Bekenstein back to the Citadel's relay and off to the Iera system. By the time they arrived, the local time was early afternoon, though shipboard it was after dinner. Shepard called her slowly burgeoning crew together in the lab for Mordin to demonstrate his protection from the seeker swarms.

"These things don't seem so dangerous," Nameless said. "How sure is our boss Mr. Ripper that these things are the cause of the colony disappearances?"

"EDI, seal the lab," Shepard ordered, and the whir of the ventilation ceased with a couple of quiet thuds. "Everyone else, shields and countermeasures up. Mordin, you can reverse the effects as well, right?"

The salarian shook his head. "Short-lived effects, wears off in two standard hours. Possible to accelerate, of course, cut time in half."

To her not quite surprise, Jacob hadn't turned on his shields, either. "Someone needs to test this, Commander," he said to her raised eyebrow, and she didn't miss the exasperated huff from Miranda, either.

"Alright Mordin, release the seekers." He paused a moment to activate his own countermeasure, then opened the case. Three seekers buzzed out, flitting around briefly before orienting on the two unprotected humans. Two of them landed on Nameless and one smashed into Jacob's shields as he activated it at the last second. It buzzed around for a moment before landing on the table. Mordin's omni-tool flared out, catching it and stuffing it back into the case.

He did the same for the two still clinging to Nameless, and they stared for a moment at the dark energy swirling around his figure, the pulsing energy slowly speeding up as Mordin monitored it. After about two minutes, as Shepard discussed tactics with Miranda, it suddenly broke, Nameless missing Mordin's hair by a whisker breath as he lunged forward, muscles tensed and mouth bared in a snarl.

"Unexpected. Seeker energy disrupted by immortality effect. Curious." He deactivated his omni-tool and stepped around Nameless. "Cannot duplicate. Unfortunate."

The scarred man took several deep breaths before turning to face the rest of the group. "I believe I will take one of those countermeasures, doctor Solus," he said, the wild light in his eyes still undiminished. "Those things … _annoy_ me," though his tone of voice reminded Shepard more of Saren as he swore at her on the Citadel.

"… Right." Shepard cleared her throat, getting the briefing back on target. "Nameless, you and Garrus are with me. Miranda, Zaeed, and Mordin will circle this perimeter of the colony; Jacob, Jack, Kasumi, Grunt, this side. We're hoping for survivors, evacuating a couple tens of thousands of people is going to take a while even if there's no resistance. Hopefully we can cut off enough of them to stop the kidnappings." She glanced around at everyone. "Any questions?"

"I might have missed the rules of engagement," Nameless rumbled, taking his shield generator back from Mordin and strapping it beneath his baldric.

"Shoot the Collectors. Save the colonists. If in doubt, ask Shepard," Garrus said, mandibles and eyes glaring at the immortal.

"Try not to die too many times," Kasumi added. He merely raised an eyebrow in her direction, and she cloaked.

Shepard raised her hand irritably, glaring around the room, mostly at Nameless. "We're shuttle down in ten, people. Arm up and meet downstairs." She strode out herself, flanked immediately by Miranda and Garrus. "Problems?" she asked them, once they had all crowded into the elevator.

"Are you sure we can trust Nameless on this?" Miranda said bluntly. "I expect he'd let colonists go if he could watch what the Collectors have planned."

"No," Garrus disagreed. "He'd _take_ them if he thought the Collectors would let him take part, I have no doubt." He gave Shepard a worried look. "Are you sure about this?"

She scoffed as she stepped out into the cargo bay and moved towards the shuttle. "I'm surprised Miranda's not more worried about Jack. I have a pretty good idea about what Nameless is capable of, though there is one thought that keeps me putting up with his crap."

"Mind sharing that with the rest of us?" Miranda drawled out.

She pulled open the shuttle, moving for the pilot seat. "I knew the … I don't know if he's the 'original', but this isn't his permanent personality." She smiled darkly as she heard the elevator rumble, Grunt and Zaeed arguing as they headed towards the shuttle. "If he keeps throwing himself into danger, one of these times he dies 'he' won't wake up. Someone else will."

Miranda and Garrus exchanged worried looks. "That's pretty dark, Shepard," the turian replied. She shot an exasperated look over her shoulder at him, shrugging. "Though I happen to agree with it."

"I just hope dealing with him doesn't color your perspective on everything else," Miranda muttered mostly to herself as the last of the team crowded onto the shuttle.

* * *

The colony of Horizon was eerily silent, the small amounts of native wildlife fled and small clumps of seeker swarms still buzzing around. Shepard and Garrus incinerated them when possible, and ignored them the rest of the time. The Collectors were out in force, and Nameless was, as usual, throwing himself into the center of the mix. Harbinger was an annoying talkative pain, though he hadn't shown up as frequently since the immortal grabbed one of his hosts by both wrists, planted a foot in its shoulder blades, and ripped it apart.

Some of the colonists were found, still frozen, and Shepard had them all take a few moments to move the frozen bodies into one of the open apartments, where at least they would be safe from any stray rounds. Hopefully they would also be harder for the Collectors to, well, collect, with most of the seekers burned or crushed.

She took a moment to contact Miranda and Jacob, getting updates on their own Collector-killing efforts around the fringe of the main colony. Turning off her radio, she frowned, watching Nameless lift a battered husk by the top of the head. "What are these things?" he asked, staring at the blue circuitry covering the body.

"Husks," Garrus said. "We encountered them when we were chasing Saren." He looked around, keeping his sniper rifle in line with his view. "I'm not seeing any of those spikes, though."

"These ones look different," Shepard said. "Could they have brought husks with them?"

Curiosity twigged, she turned the radio back on and called Mordin. "Possible. Evaluate humans, turn unsatisfactory ones into husks, use as labor," he responded.

"That makes sense. Thanks, Mordin," and she clicked off. "Doesn't matter right now. Every minute we spend talking lets them load more colonists." Raising her sniper rifle again, she led them between the buildings, taking out another cluster of Collectors and husks before pausing to hack the door to a vehicle garage.

Inside, the shivering mechanic took a potshot at Nameless before she could get him calmed down, and they listened to his tale of the takeover of the colony. But, most importantly, "Ashley Williams is here? Where is she?"

"How should I know? I've stayed in here – where it's safe!" he shot back angrily. "Those things are going to come in here and take us too, now. The Alliance bitch just ran off and abandoned us!"

Nameless surged forward, twisting the gun out of his grip without breaking his finger, lifting him casually in the other hand. "We have killed dozens of the enemy already," he menaced, "and will doubtless kill dozen more. Unless you'd rather we packed up and left you on your own?" An acrid smell and a sudden dripping from his pants leg was the only answer given, so after a moment the immortal simply shoved him aside between two sets of shelving. "We are wasting time, Commander."

As they moved to open the other door and head closer to the colony center, Garrus stared at him. "Why are you in such a rush all of a sudden? I thought you didn't care about these people."

"I don't, per se," came the bored reply as the door opened. "This Harbinger interests me, though. No matter how many times I kill him, he returns in a new body, instantly strengthening it and becoming far more powerful." A trio of Collectors came swooping down towards them, one of them dying to paired shots before it could land. "You can see how that might interest me," he called out, already bounding away, leaping over the limited cover and deftly removing the second Collector's head before it could fire a shot.

It was with some surprise that the shockwave caught him, tossing him aside, as a larger husk-like creature lumbered into view. Shepard lit it on fire, even as Garrus sent a round ricocheting off the monster's skull to no visible effect. Growling, Nameless surged back to his feet, literally leaping over the next shockwave and bringing both blades down into the hump behind the head.

Even then, the blades skittered off, digging deep gashes into the armor but doing no damage, and he let the blades fall away, bashing away with bare hands, finally ripping the gruesome weapon out of its socket and proceeding to bash the scion in the head until the skull finally crumpled, dropping it to the ground. Dropping the now bent weapon, he hawked and spat on the corpse, "And _stay_ down," he muttered.

They continued on, finally emerging at the spaceport, taking down more Collectors and quickly hacking the computer to start the defenses running. "Shepard, all the Collectors just turned and headed your direction," Jacob informed her via radio.

"I got that impression!" she shouted back, shooting a Collector in the neck before Harbinger could take over. "Hit them in the rear!"

After that, she had no attention to spare, as the Collectors came on them in a near-constant stream, Nameless laughing like a maniac as he danced between two scions, letting their shockwaves blast each other as he regenerated from each blow. She and Garrus ended up back to back, standing on the roof of a truck, his assault rifle taking down the husks while she sniped the Collectors one after another. "Remind me why I joined up with you again?" he shouted over the chatter of weapons.

"You missed all the excitement!" she riposted, pausing to kick a husk in the jaw. "Also my hair!"

"How could I miss your hair?" He overloaded Harbinger, and she put a sniper round through one of his glowing eyes. "It's like a bright red 'shoot me' sign."

"Which one of us took a rocket to the face again?" Speaking of which, she dropped her sniper rifle rather than reload, pulling out the rocket launcher, and letting two missiles fly at Harbinger's new host, blowing it apart and scattering some of the nearby crates.

Before she could take aim at a new target, a flying monster swooped in, passing over Nameless just out of blade reach, blasting away at her with some kind of blue energy beam. They both leaped off the truck, firing wildly at it. The new enemy was fast, agile, and the beam ate through her shields like almost nothing else.

With another plasma blast, the thing slammed into the ground with a heavy shockwave, sending Nameless crashing into a crate, one of his blades flying away. She swapped her rifle for her SMG, chattering away short bursts as it recharged its shields, Garrus' rifle doing the same thing.

Suddenly, the immortal went hurtling through the air, having leaped up several crates, passing through the shield and slamming the one blade deep into its top armor plates. With a screech, it leaped back into the air, and she and Garrus tag-teamed it with an overload/plasma combo to the underside before opening back up with their weapons in cautious aimed bursts. He crouched atop the beast, the knife slamming home again and again, until at last a large enough section had weakened for him to pierce completely through, his arm vanishing to the elbow.

The praetorian's flight turned completely erratic, and after a few seconds, it crashed to the ground, sliding over to stop against one of the buildings just as Nameless leaped clear. A second later, the GUARDIAN batteries opened up on the Collector ship, their own dazzling beams of barely-visible red tinting the sky as they charred vast lines into the ship.

As they watched it lift off, Ashley finally made an appearance, emerging from between two of the buildings, followed by the mechanic. "Shepard? That can't … is it really you?"

"It's me. Mostly me, I suppose, I got some new parts." She looked after the Collector ship. "How many of the colonists did we manage to save?"

"I, I don't know. Shepard, you _died_. I watched the Normandy explode from my life pod!" The marine took a few steps forward, still staring in confusion. "What happened?"

"Cerberus rebuilt me, brought me back to life." She saw the mental barriers go up instantly, wariness coating every motion. "Relax, Ashley, I'm not working for them."

"No? How am I supposed to know that? How do I know they didn't put some kind of control chip in your head?"

"Williams, it's really Shepard," Garrus piped in. "Do you really think Cerberus would recruit turians? Or the krogan who's also on our team?"

At that moment, Nameless came walking up with his second blade, and the change in his body language was enough to push Ashley over the edge. "Him too? You turned a man who could have been humanity's greatest hope against the Reapers into a Cerberus stooge. I can't believe this, not from you, Shepard." Finally holstering her assault rifle, Williams turned away, stalking angrily back towards the rest of the colony. "Don't contact me again," she spat furiously.

"Was it something I said?" Nameless said insolently. Shepard's hands tightened into fists, but she restrained the urge to set his head on fire again. "A pity she doesn't like you, Commander. She seemed positively _delectable_ in that pink armor."

"Shepard to shore party, rendezvous on the shuttle. We're leaving." Her voice was clipped, flat, and obviously pissed off to everyone who knew her even a little bit. Fortunately, nobody spoke up to contradict her orders, and with Garrus beside her and Nameless ambling along behind juggling his knife handles, she returned to the shuttle and the Normandy.


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: Haestrom! Sunny Haestrom! Nameless gets a tan, and Tali finds out her magical mentor is missing._

* * *

The next two days on board the Normandy went as they had the days immediately before – Nameless stalking Jack and doing his best to creep out everyone else (except Shepard and Chakwas, who had taken to carrying around a hypo of sedatives mixed with LSD; one experience of hallucinations was enough that the immortal gave the doctor a wide a scrupulously polite berth). After robot miners had finished clearing another uninhabited system of several thousand tons of valuable minerals, EDI blanked out the galaxy map. "Commander, the Illusive Man has forwarded a new set of dossiers for you to review."

Sighing, she stepped down off the podium, glancing aside at Kelly's empty station. _Holy crap, it's two in the morning_, she thought. "Alright, EDI, I'll look them over in the morning."

"One of them is particularly time sensitive, Commander," the AI admonished her.

Shepard sighed, already turning towards the elevator. "Give me the short version, then."

"Tali'Zorah and a team of quarians have been trapped on the planet Haestrom by geth." She had already turned around, bounding back up to the galaxy map before the sentence had been finished. "Would you like me to plot a course?"

"Get us moving. How long until we arrive there?" She considered the transit times.

"It will take us three hours to travel to the nearest system with a mass relay. Approximately another hour and a half of sub-light travel to position ourselves with the relay, and half an hour to reach Haestrom based on the current estimated location of the planet and relay in relation to Dholen." The AI sounded unusually smug as Shepard stepped back down from the podium. "Cerberus has no records of why Tali'Zorah or her team is present on the former quarian colony."

Shepard groaned, rubbing her face with her hands. "Fine, EDI. I'm going to bed. Wake me up in four hours, along with Nameless, Zaeed, Mordin, and Garrus. We'll take out the geth and help the quarians to evacuate. Have them meet me in the shuttle bay fifteen minutes before we arrive at Haestrom." She hit the button for her quarters in the elevator.

"Understood, Commander." Despite her exhaustion, it took Shepard several minutes to get to sleep, thoughts whirling in her head of the quarian girl who seemed very nearly like a little sister to her.

The blaring alarm nearly had Shepard into the escape pod before her brain recognized it as the wake-up call and not the abandon ship alarm. She took a quick shower, donning her armor and swinging through the mess hall only long enough to grab a couple pieces of toast. Down in the shuttle bay, Mordin and Garrus were standing to one side, discussing some kind of weapon modifications, while Nameless entertained himself by juggling his knife handles, blades extended.

"Alright, EDI, what's so important about this planet that the Migrant Fleet sent Tali there?" She double-checked her weapons while she waited for the AI to explain.

"Apparently, the star Dholen has begun to die sooner than expected."

"How much sooner?" Mordin asked. _One sentence,_ Shepard thought to herself, amused despite it. _One sentence and he's already interrupting._

"By accepted standards of astronomy, approximately one hundred million years over the last five centuries." That was enough to get even Nameless to pay attention. "Haestrom was one of the quarians' first colonies before the geth rebellion. It is likely that Tali and her team were sent to try and gather data about the star's changing lifecycle."

Shepard nodded, putting away her weapons, all set with anti-synthetic mods. "What can we expect?" She climbed into the shuttle, the other three following her. "How many geth are there?"

"The sun's output has increased radiation and magnetic output by an order of magnitude, and light output has likewise increased sharply. I recommend maximum polarization on all visors and helmets." The ship rumbled slightly as the shuttle bay door opened, and Shepard piloted the shuttle out and downwards towards the surface. "I have locked onto a safe landing location close to the quarians' last known location."

"Thanks, EDI," she replied absently, following the holo-plotted course on the view screen. "Everyone prepared?"

"Shepard. Likely increased solar output will increase drain on shields," Mordin spoke up. "Will also hamper geth."

"So we must fight in the shade?" Nameless asked, unusually serious.

"Recommended."

The shuttle landed, and they all quickly stepped outside. In moments, geth platforms were heading towards their location, and she and Garrus covered Nameless while he charged in. Their first shock of the mission was watching him step out into the sunlight. His shields drained instantly, his skin smoking as he twirled mostly around a blast from a plasma shotgun to turn a geth into a pile of scrap. Stepping into the shade, his regeneration shed the plasma burns into a cloud of ash as his shields recharged.

"That looked nasty," Garrus commented, taking out a geth further away. "We're not their only target, they're assaulting a building over that way."

Signaling, Shepard let Zaeed lead the way down the ramp, snapping out short bursts from his assault rifle as they followed at his heels, blasting away with electrical overloads or bursts of plasma. Nameless dashed from shadow to shadow, often throwing one of his knives or chunks of damaged buildings, crumbling in the solar bombardment.

They reached a vantage point just in time to see two rocket geth blast apart one of the columns, sending it crumbling down to crush two quarians. "I daresay, why don't you clockwork monstrosities pick on someone your own size?" Nameless challenged them, one of his knives embedding itself perfectly in a flashlight-head as it turned towards him. The other fired a rocket, and as the other four scattered to take up better flanking positions, to all of their surprise, he ducked sideways, massive hands shooting out and catching the rocket mid-flight, whirling it around and sending it cart wheeling erratically back towards the rocket trooper.

Luckily for that particular rocket trooper, a juggernaut got in the way, taking the explosive right to a knee like an arrow, shields failing as it stumbled into the sunlight and a plasma burst from Mordin. Unluckily for that rocket trooper, its pause to evaluate the unorthodox (not to mention, freaking _impossible_) battle tactics, gave Garrus more than enough time to send a sniper shot right through the flashlight head.

They took out the geth fairly quickly, leaving Nameless to dash across the shadows while they moved up to the building. "Damn it, we need to get in here," Shepard complained.

"Why not just climb over the top?" Zaeed said. "The goddamn thing's not more than seven feet tall, we have scarface there drag over a box, jump over it."

The response was a wordless growl, as the immortal launched himself in a prodigious leap, landing atop the fallen column, rolling back behind it before his skin could start to smoke. "It's just an outpost," his voice carried over. "Several more dead suited folk in here. I believe their injuries are superficial, but I would be happy to open a few suits to confirm it."

"Don't you dare," Shepard said menacingly. "Zaeed, Garrus – grab that box." The two holstered their weapons long enough to grab the box and shuffle it, the outer layer of their armors already starting to darken from the charring light by the time they got it into place and back into the shade. "Mordin, then me, Garrus, Zaeed."

On her signal, the salarian dashed out, his shorter stature somewhat hindering his climbing, but he made it over before his armor could be impacted. Shepard was faster, and the other two were right on her heels. Inside, there were several dead quarians, surrounded by geth parts and pieces. "Alright, let's loot this place and move along. Something has to be important either in here or past here for the quarians to fight so hard to hold it."

They salvaged everything worth holding, finally stopping at a flickering computer panel. It took a few moments of fiddling with it before it finally gave a clear channel to Tali. "Shepard! And Garrus and Nameless! What are you all doing here?"

"We're here to rescue you, Tali," Shepard said. "Can you unlock this door from where you are?"

"Yes, but – what happened to the rest of the team?" Shepard said nothing, the expression on her face and the quiet dip of her head enough. "This building is secure enough for me to hold out for a while, Shepard. I know someone is still alive outside, because I can hear the gunfire."

"Don't worry, Tali, we'll get you out of there," Garrus said, holding his sniper rifle like he was auditioning for a Blasto movie. Shepard had to work very hard to withhold her snickers.

"Just – be careful." Tali's communication cut off, and they moved through the open door, Zaeed in the lead. Down just below them, they heard a rocket launcher fire, the projectile dashing off to impact something further away, and they rounded the corner to find a red-suited quarian, a rough field bandage around one leg.

"Garrus, medic him," Shepard said as she and Zaeed crept below the barricade, both of them taking quick shots with their sniper rifles. "I'm Commander Shepard. I'm guessing Tali's in there behind the colossus."

"Got it in one," he replied, firing the rocket launcher without bothering to aim. "Kal'Reegar vas Neema, Migrant Fleet Marines." He hissed as Garrus replaced the bandage with a fresh shot of dextro medigel. "She's trapped in there, and the rest of my squad out here is dead. If the colossus would stay up and fight fair, I'd have taken it out by now, but it keeps ducking down and repairing itself."

"How unfair of it," Nameless said, picking up a fallen chunk of rock, stepping out into the open and hurling it. A dozen shots slammed into him, downing his shields and spraying his blood out to blaze before they hit the sun-covered ground, but nearly decapitating a geth trooper in return. "It's stealing a page from my playbook. "Commander, may I have free rein?"

Still crouched behind the barricade, she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Feel free to kill as many geth as you want to, Nameless. Just no quarians." He shot her an annoyed look, then turned towards Reegar.

"Do you have a couple of extra power cells?" The quarian's faceplate stared at him blankly for a moment before he reached into a pocket and handed over two cells. The immortal fiddled with his knives for a moment, draining each cell into a knife, and finally nodding in satisfaction. "Very well. Commander, if you would be so kind as to provide me some covering fire against the rocket troopers?"

Before she could respond, he took a flying leap off their walkway, launching himself twenty feet to kick the head off a regular trooper, and aim his blade at a prime as it stepped out from behind cover. His blade flashed, and a mass-effect field holding a molecule-thick blade of diamond ripped outward at just under the speed of sound, plunging into the heart of the prime before the field failed and it shattered. Another followed it a moment later, taking the prime in the head and sending it crashing to the ground.

Up on the walkway, the rest of the squad was busy, three of them taking sniper shots at whatever targets presented themselves, as Mordin sent a continuous stream of hacks, overloads, and spurious data at the colossus, and Reegar fired off the occasional rocket at juggernauts. The shots from the colossus all missed the immortal, blasting wide gouges out of the landscape and shattering the weathered metal containers.

"Shields are down," the salarian announced, and without needing a command, all three centered their scopes on the colossus' head. It was just preparing for a shot at Nameless, as all three shots rang out, completely shattering one of the armor plates and skewing the flashlight to one side. "Perfect shot! Repairs initiated."

Shepard glanced around the field, noting that the only things moving now were her squad and Reegar. She motioned to the others, and they split up, Garrus and herself dashing up the ramp to the sniper walkway and into new cover, Zaeed and Mordin ducking into shadows on the left side where they could continue hitting the colossus.

Right as the repairs finished, Nameless had reached the colossus, and he raised his blades just in time for the gargantuan machine to step on him and crush him into the pavement like a cockroach. Nonetheless, he managed to fire two more blades into the underbelly of the machine, and it didn't take the squad too long to finish it off once Shepard moved close enough to activate the arc projector.

With the colossus down, they moved into the building, gathering the rest of the geth salvage Tali had accumulated while protecting herself. "It's good to see you again, Tali," Shepard said, stepping forward and extending a hand.

To her surprise, Tali gave her a quick hug. "It's good to see you too. Your choice of companions gives me hope for your future too. Well, some hope," she said, catching sight of the tattoo on Zaeed's neck as he took off his helmet.

"Kal'Reegar's still alive, but I'm afraid the rest of the quarians here are dead," Garrus said. "I made sure he was patched up, so we can get him back to the Migrant Fleet."

"Thank you, Garrus. But as far as I'm concerned, the bosh'tet admirals can have the data without me." She moved over to a limping Kal'Reegar as he stepped inside the room with them. "Will you be able to get back on your own?"

"Not a problem, ma'am," he responded, snapping off a quick salute. "After this mission, I can understand why you don't want to take any more orders from them." He reached out a hand, taking the data disk from her and tucking it into a pocket on his suit. "I, ah, would appreciate a hand getting back to my ship though."

Shepard smiled at that. "Zaeed, Mordin, help him get back to his ship, we'll pick you up in the shuttle." She started for the door. "Along the way, we can introduce Tali to Nameless."

The confusion was obvious in the quarian girl's posture. "But, I know Nameless. I wasn't his best magical student or anything, but I do remember some of what he taught me." A slight glow, nearly imperceptible in the sunlight, enveloped both hands in an orange shade.

Nameless simply cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Isn't that an interesting trick. But as it stands, I've been told I have some … _memory_ issues," he responded, taking one glowing hand in his own and bowing over it, managing to convey both respect and an earnest desire to discover the texture of her entrails. "Pleased to meet you."

Tali jerked her hand away, omni-tool already powered up before he finished speaking. "Shepard?" she asked, the rest of the question obvious in one word.

She sighed. "He's pledged not to harm anyone who is part of my crew, or anyone else I forbid him from harming." She looked at the immortal with flat menace herself. "So far, he's kept to that pledge."

"Without his word, a man is nothing," Nameless said, almost pompously. "As part of the team, you have nothing to fear from me, Tali'Zorah." He glanced off in the direction the quarian marine had headed with assistance. "Your admiralty, however …"

"That's enough, Nameless," Shepard said wearily. "We have enough to deal with with mercenaries, Collectors, geth, and who knows what else on our tails."

Shrugging broad tattooed shoulders, he fell silent, flipping his knife handles over and over as they made the short dash to the shuttle.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: Shorter chapter than I intended, but the Thane mission isn't coming out right now. Samara/Nameless faceoff to come later._

* * *

Reading over the dossiers on the way, Shepard could feel a migraine coming on. "This is going to be a complete and utter disaster," she told Miranda.

"How's that?" her less-than-trustworthy second-in-command asked.

Shepard flipped around the data pad, with a picture of the asari justicar. "I'm going off of this and some extranet searches on what justicars do, but she's supposed to basically consider herself the living embodiment of law and order, right?" The dark hair woman nodded slowly, waiting to see the point. "Right now, we've got numerous members of a terrorist organization, a vigilante, a thief, an unscrupulous mercenary, and two murderous psychotics on barely-held leashes. The only people I _don't_ think she'll try to arrest are myself, Mordin, Grunt, and Tali – and I'm not too sure about me."

"If it's not going to work out, we can leave her behind. Or stun her and toss her out an airlock." The flat look from Shepard made her lean back slightly. "While we're docked, of course."

"Of course," she replied dryly. "That's not taking into account this assassin I'm supposed to recruit while we're there." Miranda started to open her mouth. "I haven't forgotten about your family situation, either."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "So, which one do we recruit first?"

She considered it, flipping back and forth between the dossiers. "We'll try and recruit Samara first. Then I'll take the more … suspicious members with me to get this drell, and see how she gets along with everyone else."

"Sounds good, Commander." She hesitated. "Can I ask that Nameless _not_ be on the team to rescue my sister?"

Shepard blinked at her in surprise. "What in god's name made you think I'd bring him to rescue someone?"

"The only person who does more damage is Grunt, and you in a bad mood."

"Touché. No, Nameless is not coming to help your sister, I expect we'll want a quieter team." She stood up, stretching. "We get to Illium in four hours?"

"That's right, Commander." Miranda stood as well, blanking out her terminal.

"Commander, you just received a message from Liara T'Soni," EDI said. "She has requested you meet her at her office, and to bring Nameless with you."

"Huh. EDI, take us in slow, I'm going to get some sleep. No one disembarks until I'm ready."

"Understood, Commander," the AI replied.

"Who's going with you to start?" Miranda asked.

Shepard sighed. "Nameless, obviously. You, Mordin, Kasumi. I'll trade off people once I know what Liara wanted. I'm not taking Nameless to get the justicar, so probably I'll have him report back and bring along Tali." She smiled thinly. "Grunt's not getting off until I can be relatively sure something not going to set him off."

"Understood, Commander. We'll be ready when you are. Should I draw up liberty plans for the crew?" Shepard paused in the doorway and considered it before nodding decisively.

Five hours later, she stepped off of the Normandy, Nameless hulking behind the four smaller figures as they greeted the asari and her security droids. Still, it seemed to have been all handled peacefully, and they walked along a fairly picturesque elevated walkway, three-quarters of the way up one of the many skyscrapers of the planet's capitol.

Liara's office was prime real estate, with a gorgeous view obvious from below, looking out towards the rising sun of the morning, and they went up the stairs quietly. Her secretary, or whatever the asari word for it was, gulped nervously at the sight of Nameless, but opened the door for them wordlessly.

"I will flay you alive _with my mind_!" were the first words they heard as they stepped into Liara's office.

"I like this chit already," the immortal said, causing Liara to cut off the communication and whirl around. "She has almost as much fire as Jack."

Smiling, she stepped around the desk, embracing Shepard tightly. "It's good to see you again, Shepard." The asari raised an eyebrow towards the others. "I wish Nameless was the same one I knew, and I know Doctor Solus and the infamous Goto by reputation only." Kasumi gave a dojo bow, and Mordin simply smiled. "That will be all, Nyxeris," she ordered, and after a moment of hesitation, the other asari departed.

"So, what's this new chief like?" Morte asked, floating up from a shelf on the side of the room. "He seems all dark and brooding and – gack!" Whatever else he was going to say was cut off as one giant hand shot out, grabbing the skull tightly and yanking it closer for examination.

"Curious," he rumbled, "I feel a connection to you, yet I cannot explain it, and I know without consideration that you will hate me if you know me." He stared into the trembling, frightened eyes. "Most curious," and once released, Morte shot across the room to hide hovering behind Liara's shoulder.

"Morte," Shepard said, with more warmth, "it's good to see you again. Have you been with Liara all this time?"

"He has. He has even been," she paused, winking at Shepard before continuing in a quite reluctant voice, "helpful."

"That's me, office spy extraordinare," he bragged, one nervous eye still on Nameless. "I might just have to jump ship though. Who is this gorgeous creature?" The skull waggled his eyebrows at Miranda.

"I will punch your teeth out and shove them up your nose," she responded, managing to sound bored by the whole thing.

"Uh, duly noted," he said, staying behind Liara. "Commander, you pick up the scariest people."

"You haven't even met Jack yet," she drawled. "She's a party and a half."

"Yeah, well, much as I'd like to help you with the whole save-the-universe bit, Liara needs me," he said hurriedly. "Right, Liara?"

Obviously fighting down a smile, she reached over her shoulder to flick him lightly in the forehead. "I would have to insist. He knows too many of my secrets, and someone has to keep my office free of bugs." Moving back to her desk, Liara's grin reminded Shepard disturbingly of Benezia. "There's even rumors going around that my office is _haunted_, if you can imagine that."

"So, why did you want to see me, Liara?" Shepard asked. "Just wanted to see how I was doing? You're the first one not surprised to see me alive again."

Miranda cleared her throat softly. "Miss T'Soni was responsible for retrieving your body before the Shadow Broker could sell it to the Collectors," she said. Shepard looked back and forth between the two several times.

"I see. Well … thank you," she said, nearly wincing at how lame it sounded.

Liara reached out a hand, with a data disc. "I also have some information on Thane Krios and Samara." She shot a curious glance at Miranda. "As well as a contact of Miss Lawson's."

"Thank you, Liara. This will help." Shepard paused for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Only if you want to run around hacking a bunch of boring consoles," Morte replied.

"Tell me what you need, I'll have Garrus or Tali take care of whatever I can't." Liara nodded gratefully, and her omni-tool pinged with the information.

"If either of them wish to stop by, I'd be happy to see them as well. A reminder of … better days."

Shepard snorted, turning towards the door as Morte quickly returned to his shelf. "Never thought I'd agree that our hunt for Saren was 'better days.' I'll be back to see you later, Liara."

The blue alien smiled broadly. "I'll be looking forward to it."


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: I have a feeling everyone's too busy playing the new Citadel DLC to read, but here's a new Torment chapter anyway. Nameless finally gets to meet Samara and Thane._

* * *

After escorting Nameless back to the ship, and retrieving his oath to remain on board and stop pestering the crew, Shepard added Tali to her roster, and set off to find the Justicar. It was two hours of boring investigation (if constantly asking different police "Has the justicar come this way?" counted) followed by a brief, half-hour of taking out an Eclipse base. Wherever possible, she left them alive and restrained, the better to be prosecuted. Also, after seeing what they'd done to poor Garrus, she didn't really want to see all three mercenary groups decide she was their next group project.

Once all of the paperwork was handled with the locals, they returned to the ship. Samara had seemed interested in the people she had on board, and had likewise promised to obey Shepard, though she felt confident that the justicar wasn't going to be straining at the leash and looking for every potential loophole. "Miranda, please let Zaeed, Nameless, and Jack know to be ready in an hour," she said as they cycled through the airlock. "I want a chance to shower and grab a bite of something before we try to catch the assassin in Nassana's lair."

"Are we trying to catch him before, or after, he kills her?" the biotic asked blandly.

Groaning, Shepard ignored the question, moving quickly to the elevator and waving off Kelly's irritatingly happy greeting. The shower was heavenly, if brief, and she ducked down to the mess deck wearing just her underarmor jumpsuit.

It came as a great surprise to round the corner, to see Nameless and Samara, circling each other, with a gathered crowd of half the crew, everyone watching silently. "What the hell," she started, only to be cut off by simultaneous raised hands from both warriors.

They continued their circular stalking for another minute, obviously still taking each other's measure. In a purely physical contest, Shepard would have bet on the immortal – he had nearly a foot of height and probably a hundred pounds on the asari – but all her research had told her that justicars were among the asari's most powerful biotics. Neither of them had made a violent move yet, aside from trying to wear a hole in the deck, but they were also between her and the food.

In the half second between her decision to break it up and her movement to do so, something was apparently decided between them, as both stopped. "When our mission is over, and I have fulfilled my oath to Shepard, I _will_ kill you," Samara intoned.

"You will _try_," Nameless taunted back at her. "In fact, feel free, try it now." He pulled out one of his knives, the blade generator pointed towards his chest, and the weapon was pulled biotically into the asari's hand. "It won't help, but if it will make you feel better?" He spread his arms deceptively calmly, and tilted his head up to give her better access to his throat.

"Would you rather I left you here? Maybe you two can repaint Grunt's cargo bay in red while I deal with Nassana's bodyguards?" Shepard spat icily. In an instant, Nameless lunged forward, anticipating the justicar's combat moves as he disarmed her, sliding the knife hilt home right as she blasted him past the table and into the wall next to the med bay door. "And please refrain from damaging my ship," she aimed at the asari as she gestured towards Gardner.

The mess sergeant quickly handed her a simple PB&J, which thanks to their onload of local vittles, tasted heavenly. "I apologize, Commander," Samara said, dipping her head. "I will endeavor to hold my disgust in check around that … abomination."

Shepard sighed, and wolfed down another bite of the sandwich. "Zaeed, would you please get Jack, so I can do at least a five minute briefing before we head out?" The mercenary departed, shooting one last calculating gaze at both justicar and immortal before stepping around the corner. "Samara, would you accompany Tali and Mordin? Liara had some data analysis she wanted help with, and while they're both technical geniuses, neither of them are familiar with asari culture." Inclining her head respectfully, she also departed. "Nameless, upstairs to the meeting room."

He gazed at her for several seconds, eyes narrowed, and departed. "EDI?"

"Nameless is in the elevator. He is stepping out into the CIC now," the AI responded.

She sighed and turned back to Gardner. "Go on, or you'll just do it anyway when I'm not here."

The mess sergeant blinked at her for several moments, then pulled out an erasable marker and walked over to the med bay windows. "Alright, place your bets now. What day will Samara and Nameless finally go for broke and try to kill each other?"

"That's hardly fair," Garrus protested from the sleeper pod he was leaning against. "We don't know when we're going to go up against the Collectors."

"Fine, if your day passes, you can place a new bet," Gardner grumbled. "Fair?"

"I put it at two standard months," Jacob said, tossing up a credit chit. "100 a good bet?"

"Lightweight," Kasumi said, decloaking as she grabbed his ass, causing the marine to jump and take two hurried steps to the side as Gardner started writing down bets. "500 on eleven standard weeks from now."

Sighing, Shepard departed for the elevator herself, listening to the various crew members placing their bets, the last voice she heard being Chakwas yelling at them for ruining her view out the window.

Her three chosen squad members were in the briefing room, so she wasted no time going over the information Liara had provided them on Dantius towers. "Lots of mechs, backed up by Eclipse mercs," she said. "Jack, you'll mostly be on the mercs, Zaeed and I on the mechs, and Nameless on anyone dumb enough to get within arms reach." She held up a warning finger. "And if you say, 'This reminds me of this one goddamn mission,'" she imitated his voice fairly well, "I swear to God I will put Samara in your cargo bay."

"At least my last sight would be a pleasant one," he muttered, slouching down in his chair, and glaring at Jack as she smirked.

"Fine. Armor up, and meet in the airlock in five." She strode out to the armory, looking at the various armored weapons before settling on the flamethrower. She hooked up both pistol and sniper rifle with disruptive rounds, and met the three of them in the airlock.

It took them only a few minutes to reach the towers by aircar, watching several salarians being shot at by the security mechs as they got out. Zaeed didn't even bother getting out of the aircar before he started gunning down the mechs, giving the unfortunate workers some covering fire as they scrambled to get out of the way.

Then Jack upstaged him, lifting a trash container and hurling it into the remaining two mechs, shattering the front door to the building and scattering synthetic parts the length of the lobby. "Yeah! Send on the tin cans!" she gushed.

They gave the salarians some quick first aid, and headed up through the building. One part of Shepard's mind was glad it was so easy; these mercs, despite their Eclipse armor, were obviously rookies, and between Zaeed's expert shooting, Jack's biotic throws, and Nameless' bloodthirsty strength, most of them didn't get more than one or two bursts off. Another part of her was worried at how callous she was becoming, treating what was practically the wholesale slaughter of several dozen people as boring.

They rescued more salarians, locked in a storage room by the drell, and finally reached the top of the half-finished tower and looked out across the bare skybridge. _Huh, so here's where all the smart mercs decided to wait._ "Jack," she said conversationally as they ducked behind several pallets of construction supplies, "have you even been skeet shooting?" Unsurprisingly, Zaeed caught on instantly, switching to his sniper rifle.

The biotic grinned, racing forward and ducking down behind another stack of wall panels. "Pull!" she shouted, leaning out and sending a shockwave into the nearest cluster of mercenaries. One went tumbling off the side, while she and Zaeed calmly sniped down two of the other three, the third scrambling back into cover while the drones further away spattered fire around Jack's position. A moment later, one of the wall panels came crashing down next to the last merc, causing him to jerk backwards in shock, and Zaeed's concussive round sent him skittering off the side, falling to his death as well.

She looked over her shoulder to see Nameless hefting another panel. "Ready whenever you are, Shepard," he said, "though the wind makes it damnably hard to aim properly."

It took her a moment to refocus on the path ahead, giving her head a small shake. "Next," she shouted to Jack, and they moved forward, all of them rushing in unison to the next set of cover. This time, Nameless' thrown panel took one of the mercs in the arm as he tried to shoot them, leaving the arm dangling in shattered armor for the half a second Jack needed to put two bullets in his chest.

Once past the bridge, the rest of the way up the tower was almost anti-climactic, even a krogan not doing more than briefly slowing them before Nameless could chuck him down the open drop to land a few floors down with a sickening crunch.

At the top floor, Nassana stood behind a hefty desk, two more mercenaries behind her leveling assault rifles in their direction. "Why? Why the hell are you after me? I'm the _good_ sister!" she railed.

"Not my call," Shepard said, holstering her own pistol. "Besides, I'm not here for you."

"Oh, sure, you just walked through five dozen mercs and a hundred mechs just for the fun of it!"

"Actually," Nameless smiled, "I did think it was an excellent evening's entertainment, enchanting in the extreme."

"If he starts reciting poetry, I'm throwing him out the window," Jack muttered.

"Really," Shepard continued, ignoring her team's interruptions, "I'm here for him." She pointed behind the asari, who whirled around just in time to take a knife up through the jaw and into her brain, biotics fading almost before they were summoned. "Thane Krios?"

"Indeed," he said, the quiet rumble of his voice sounding quite enchanting to her ears. "Please, allow me a moment to pray." And he suited action to words, his quiet murmur mostly translated by her VI.

"How curious," Nameless trailed off. "Such skill, and talent, shackled by the belief in nebulous 'higher powers.'"

"Nameless, play nice," Shepard admonished. "You too, Jack."

They both looked at her, then at Zaeed, then back at her. "Not going to tell me to play nice?" the mercenary asked.

"Zaeed, while you certainly have your own flaws, I didn't think mocking someone's religious beliefs were among them," she said.

He shrugged. "Knew a Muslim once, saved by the copy of his Koran he carried around, blocked a piece of shrapnel." He grinned a little wider. "Also knew a turian, ended up dead when a bullet hit the little spirit charm he carried around, sent shards of it through his heart."

"I find it easier not to carry around physical mementos of my faith while on a hunt," Thane said, obviously finished. "I am curious how, and why, you came here to find me."

"I'd like to recruit you," Shepard said, fighting down the butterflies in her stomach. "It's probably a suicide mission, but you're among the best of the people in, ah, your line of work." _At least, I assume he is_, she thought, _but I don't think most assassins advertise in the classifieds._

"Curious. You are a person worth following." The drell looked pointedly at the immortal, and a shorter glance at Jack, before back to Shepard. "Are we the whole team?"

"There's quite a few more. Humans, turian, salarian, krogan, asari. I'd like to have you on the team to take on the Collectors." He blinked his double-eyes twice … sort of … _How do I even describe blinking both sets of eyelids together?_ "They've been taking human colonies in the Traverse."

"You may count on my gun and my skills," he said, extending a hand. She grabbed it, intending fully to try it again when she wasn't wearing armor, and see if his scales felt as smooth as they looked.

"Wonderful," came the bored drawl from Nameless. "Did we miss any mercenaries on the way up?"

Stifling her groan, she led them back to the Normandy. Hopefully Miranda and 'Archangel' were done rescuing her sister by now, and they could get on their way.


	15. Chapter 15

They had hardly left Illium's atmosphere before Kelly turned to her. "The Illusive Man is waiting to speak to you, Commander."

Shepard stifled a groan, swinging by the laboratory to pester Mordin about the improvements he was making to the seeker countermeasures, recognizing her own stalling tactic. The meeting with TIM was mercifully brief, and at least this time he didn't have EDI lock out the navigation controls to force them to go.

Still, twenty minutes later she had her squad all summoned in the mess, as she paid out what little information she'd gotten. "So, the Collector ship is supposed to be dead in the water, but there's no telling how long it's going to stay that way," she concluded.

"This sounds like a trap," Thane pointed out.

"I expect everything could be a trap," Zaeed grumbled, "which is why I'm still alive."

"I agree, it probably is a trap. But we might still be able to learn something." She glanced around the group. "I'm taking a larger squad than usual. Nameless, Grunt, Jack, Mordin, we're all going. Thane, Zaeed, Samara, I want you on board and armored up, in case we need backup or the Collectors attempt to board. Garrus, keep the guns ready, and Kasumi, see if you can tweak the stealth systems." She ran her gaze around the room one more time. "Any questions?"

There was silence, before Nameless coughed. "Do we expect to find colonial survivors on board? It has been several days since Horizon," he pointed out calmly.

"I don't expect it, but if we do, that's part of what the backup squad is for." Samara nodded gravely at the thought of this additional duty. "We'll be at the ship in half an hour. Dismissed." The group broke off, mostly splitting off to grab a last minute bite of food or use the bathroom or check weapons.

Twenty-eight minutes later, she led the other four into the disturbingly quiet ship, quickly deciding to let Nameless take point alongside Grunt. Their first twenty minutes was eerily quiet, only their own footsteps, breathing, and comments. They passed piles of bodies with no evident death marks, both Nameless and Mordin pausing to examine them before continuing. It wasn't a total waste, she was picking up plenty of data for weapon upgrades, and a new sniper rifle as well.

Then they reached the autopsied body of one of the Collectors. "That thing used to be a Prothean?"

"Not anymore," Mordin said. "No mind, no soul – all replaced by tech."

"It is nothing more than a tool," Nameless said, "a weapon. Empty of purpose or will." He grinned fiercely, slamming one fist into the intact head, shattering the exoskeleton. "I laugh at weapons."

"Enough talk," Grunt complained, "I want something to kill!"

Shepard looked around cautiously. "The longer we're on board without seeing any Collectors, the more sure I am this is a trap." She scanned the passageway before them. "Still, we're not that far from the computer core EDI marked."

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Shepard," Jack muttered, hands flickering with biotic energy.

"Yeah, me too," Shepard replied. "Let's move out. The faster we get this done and get out of here, the better." They strode forward again. At the computer platform, when the Collectors finally sprung their trap, it was a relief for all of them. But especially Grunt and Nameless, who both charged forward as each new platform arrived, blasting and slicing and smashing while Mordin and Shepard kept them from getting flanked, and Jack hit whatever target presented itself.

"EDI, do we have the data?" Shepard said when ten second had gone by without another platform full of Collectors failed to appear.

"Download complete. However, the Collector ship is beginning to power up." Jack swore loudly at that, and the five them were in motion before AI said another word. "I estimate you have five minutes before it can jump to FTL. Your previous route to the Normandy has been blocked."

"Find us an alternate then," Shepard shouted, putting two rounds from the Widow through a Scion, then watching Nameless and Grunt literally squash a drone between them. "And make it snappy!"

"Shepard, not most appropriate time to expand slang vocabulary of AI," Mordin chastised her as he plasma-burned a trio of husks to death.

"Shut up, frog lips!" Jack retorted, trading shockwaves with another Scion before Nameless ripped its arm off and beat it to death.

They raced through the ship, until one chamber had every exit door slam shut right as they entered. "That's not good," Shepard muttered, right before a handful of drones, led by a Praetorian, came flying in.

"Excellent!" Grunt shouted, sliding a new heat sink into his shotgun. "I'll take the big one!"

"I'm afraid I must offer you competition there," Nameless said, clipping power cells onto his knife hilts. "Especially as I'm the only one who's already killed one of them."

"Bring it on!" the krogan shouted, downing a drone with a headbutt before trading blows with the Praetorian, the massive body-slam sending him tumbling backwards. As much as Shepard wanted to aid them, there was a nearly constant stream of drones coming into the room, taxing the other three of them to their limits as they fought to keep the room clear enough for the two juggernauts to do their damage.

The immortal had already drained both cells, sending blade of molecule-thick diamond shattering against the armor of the Collector monster, and Grunt was on his third heat sink. This time, they both dodged the biotic shockwave from its body slam, and closed on it. Nameless ran right up the back of the krogan, clinging to its back again and stabbing in a gleeful frenzy, while the young warrior executed a near perfect baseball slide right underneath the monster, blowing holes in the underbelly from a quarter inch away.

So, naturally, Shepard had to disappoint both of them by putting a Widow round right through its head. "That was a worthy adversary!" Grunt enthused as he crawled out from beneath it, covered in gore. "Where's the next one?"

"We've got ninety seconds left! Move your ass or you'll be fighting them alone!" Shepard admonished, running for the door EDI had just opened. In moments, krogan and immortal were leading the charge again, smashing husks out of the way to clear the path for the more fragile squad members. Zaeed and Thane were standing just outside the airlock, calmly sniping past them, while Samara swatted husks past the shields to flail uselessly in vacuum. "Forty seconds! Everybody on board!"

They crowded into the airlock, giving Grunt as much space as they could, while the Normandy pulled away from the Collector ship, making her own jump to FTL as the Collectors fired on them. "Grunt, you are taking a full decon shower before you leave the airlock. I don't want that … stuff … tracked all over the ship." Shepard shuddered, and then Mordin pulled out two sample vials and grabbed drops of the Praetorian guts layering the krogan. "Everyone else, good job."

Nameless nodded, letting Jack out, the better to stare at her ass as she walked away. "Indeed, Commander. I cannot wait until we get our chance to beard them in their lair." Whistling, he followed Jack to the crew deck, to clean off splatters of Collector gore from himself.

Shepard just sighed, pulling off her armor as she shuffled wearily towards the armory. "EDI, let Gardner know he'll need to clean up the airlock and the CIC. I'm going to take a nap."


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Note: Welcome to sunny Tuchanka. Wrex gets to meet the new Nameless, and is somewhat impressed. Garvug, not so much._

* * *

They spent the next two days dealing with minor annoyances, like merc squads and far too much time scanning planets for mineral deposits. Shepard was stalling again, but she screwed up her courage after a four-hour stint on the mineral scanner and punched in a course for a planet she had hoped never to visit.

Tuchanka was a post-apocalyptic hellhole, that ironically resembled nothing quite so much as some horror vid she vaguely remembered from her teenage years. Of course, Tuchanka didn't have killer plants that would rip free of the ground, wrap you in thorns, and drain you of blood … actually, it might. She tried very hard to shove the image out of her mind.

Most of the squad was with her, only Jacob, Thane, and Kasumi remaining on board. To her surprise, they weren't the only non-krogan, either, but she had to quickly tune out the absolutely horrific poetry being recited to a very nervous asari. "What is a whelp like that doing with a bunch of aliens?" one of the krogan guards taunted.

Grunt huffed angrily, but Shepard just looked at him with boredom. "We're going in to see Wrex," she declared.

"Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?" Without prompting, both Jack and Samara hit him with their biotics, sending him tumbling down the stairs and bowling over two more krogan like he was hit by a truck. "Heh. Alright, you can go in," the guard said, standing back up and setting his forearm with an audible crunching noise.

"Tough bastards, aren't they?" Zaeed asked rhetorically.

"This reminds you of this one mission," Garrus prompted dryly.

"Where you faced off against a krogan in hand to hand combat, no doubt," Miranda added as the merc opened his mouth.

"After he'd taken out the rest of your squad," Tali chimed in cheerfully.

"Armed with antique rifle and anger," Mordin continued. Zaeed was starting to turn red in the face.

"With the unspoken undertone that we should be in awe of your survival skills," Samara proclaimed, warily watching two krogan who had stopped discussing the best way to skin a turian to listen to them.

Bitterly, Zaeed kicked a chunk of rubble down the hallway. "Bugger the whole goddamn lot of you," he muttered.

They emerged up a ramp of more settled concrete chunks, into a courtyard of sorts, though the whole thing was still underground. Wrex sat on the stone throne, still wearing the Battlemaster armor they had taken off one of Saren's indoctrinated soldiers. When he caught sight of Shepard, being blocked by the two foot soldiers, he waved off the speaking krogan and practically bounded towards her. "Shepard! You brought Garrus and Tali, even Nameless." He peered around. "Hell, if you had Liara here, it'd practically be a reunion of the Anti-Saren League."

"We're a league, now?" Garrus muttered.

"You ignore your own people for a motley group of aliens?" the belligerent speaker thundered.

"Garvug, Shepard's worth ten of you. I'd even pick Tali over you in a fight." The quarian girl shifted nervously. "Who's the whelp, then?"

"This is Grunt. I," she hesitated, thinking of how best to frame it, not for Wrex, but for the rest of the krogan, "rescued him from a tank after Eclipse mercs killed Okeer."

"Okeer? There was a dangerous name," Garvug continued to bluster. "Any krogan that came out of the tank should be put down," he sneered, stalking forward to glare at Grunt, who just looked bored and unimpressed. At least, until Garvug went to turn around, and tumbled to the ground.

"Oops," Nameless said insincerely. "_So_ sorry about that."

Garvug quickly regained his feet, whirling around to glare at the scarred immortal. "I suppose you're dumb enough to think that just because you're big, you can take a krogan on?"

"I don't _think_ that. I _know_ that." Nameless smirked, and Shepard could see the calculating look in Wrex's eyes. "I mean, what are you going to do, kill me?"

Without any sign of warning, Garvug's fist shot forward, breaking several ribs with a crackling sound, and sending Nameless tumbling backwards into Samara, forced to draw on her biotics to remain standing. "Stupid feeble humans," he spat, turning around to walk away.

Behind him, unseen, Nameless regained his feet, rib cage popping back into place. Without any of his usual taunts, he took two steps forward, leaped up onto the hump of the krogan, and dug his fingers in below the bony forehead plate. "A turian might need a knife to get this off," he panted angrily, "but I think I can do it with my fingers. I'd ask you to hold still, but I don't think you'll listen."

Shepard and Wrex exchanged another glance, the warlord shrugging eloquently. "Nameless," she ordered firmly, "no killing krogan while we're inside the hall." She could almost feel the look of reproach the justicar shot at her back, instantly grasping the loophole in those orders.

It took Nameless a second longer, but he caught on quickly enough. He released Garvug, kicking him in the back of the knees as he tumbled free and nonchalantly rejoined the squad before the hostile krogan had even regained his feet. "Enough, Garvug," Wrex said. "You tweaked the varren's tail and it bit you for it. Let it go, or get out of my hall."

The two of them glared at each other for several seconds. "I can see your time out in the universe has dulled your sense of what it is to be _krogan_," Garvug muttered, and stomped off the podium, Shepard's squad politely clearing a path for him (the better to hit him with overwhelming firepower, she noted idly).

"So, is the whelp the reason you dropped by for a visit?" Wrex asked, going back to visit. "I mean, if I'd known you were coming, I'd have cleaned up a little bit. Punched the neighbors a bit, that kind of thing." He grinned at the other aliens. "Not that it's not good to see Tali, and ugly."

"Just trying to resemble the deadliest bastard I know," Garrus replied modestly, rubbing his scars.

"It's good to see you too, Wrex," Tali said.

They spent a few minutes laying out the two problems that brought them there, and Shepard finally split up the groups. "Mordin, you'll be taking Garrus, Tali, Miranda, and Samara. Hopefully, you can deal with whoever's holding Maelon with a minimum of hassle. Grunt, Zaeed, Nameless, Jack, let's talk to the shaman about this rite."

Garvug was there, pestering the shaman again, and when he tried to protest the rite, Shepard tried a krogan thing – she headbutted him. When he started to protest again, Nameless headbutted him, hard enough to drive the krogan to the floor, to the mocking laughter of every other krogan in the room. "I didn't kill him," the immortal pointed out blandly.

"Is this your krannt, then?" the shaman asked Grunt. "I like them already. I'm curious to watch this rite."

"They will fight with me," the young krogan proclaimed proudly, "and anything that opposes us will die." He gave a pretty good glare towards Garvug, who slunk out of the room.

* * *

The waves of varren were barely an annoyance, five of them more than enough to take down the carnivorous beasts. The waves of klixen were more annoying, with their tendency to explode (usually all over Nameless or Grunt), but still weren't all that difficult. Especially after she or Zaeed set them on fire. On the third ring of the massive bass bell, though, the thresher maw showed up.

"This is goddamn insane!" Zaeed shouted, laying behind a fallen piller and shooting blindly over it with his assault rifle. "We're taking on a goddamn thresher maw _on goddamn foot!_"

"Trust me," Shepard called back, launching a plasma burst that narrowly missed as the maw ducked underground, "I'd rather be doing this in a Mako!"

"Stop whining," Nameless exulted, "I haven't had this much fun since Dantius towers!" He hefted a piece of concrete the size of Shepard's torso, hurling it straight into the maw's open mouth and causing it to splatter out the acid well short of their positions.

"Much as I hate to agree with him," Jack said, firing a couple of shots at it, "this is pretty fucking fun!"

To their surprise, it didn't take them more than a few minutes to kill the beast, covered in burns from plasma bursts and grenades. Panting, they all paused to check their medigel levels and reload their weapons, just in case, before climbing the stairs out.

Shepard wasn't really surprised to find Garvug waiting for them with a trio of other krogan. Before he could blurt out what he wanted, Nameless had already sprinted forward, one knife driving in through each eye socket to scramble what little brains he had. To their credit, the other krogan tried to rally, but a shockwave from Jack scattered them before they could get organized, and the withering fire from Zaeed and Grunt killed one before he could even stand up again. The other two didn't last very long either.

"I daresay, I'm starting to like this planet," Nameless said. Zaeed shook his head sadly.

"Let's get back to the landing pad. I really hope that Mordin rescued his assistant and we can get back on the Normandy," Shepard ordered wearily.

* * *

"Not so much," Miranda briefed her once they were back on board. "He was alive, and Garrus did convince Mordin not to put a bullet in him. Maelon was willingly working with them," she explained to Shepard's confused look. "Tali and I talked him into keeping the data – just in case."

"Just in case we need a cure, or just in case Cerberus decides to go for a final solution?" Shepard asked darkly.

Miranda sighed. "I can see it going either way. Having met Wrex, I have more faith in the krogan in general than I did before. But I think it's rather like trying to keep a varren for a pet."

"What's wrong with varren?" Shepard asked innocently. "Urz was perfectly well behaved."

"Only you, Shepard," the biotic shuddered. "Please tell me we don't have to come back here again?"

"Ok, we don't have to come back here again." Miranda glared at her. "Seriously, we probably won't need to, but I'm not guaranteeing it." They both paused to sip at their drinks. "So, Maelon lived?"

"Ah, no. Mordin didn't shoot him, but … he was the first one out of the room." Shepard raised one eyebrow. "Samara broke his neck biotically, very quiet, and we left. Even for a salarian, that man was unhinged."

Shepard rose to her feet with a sigh. "That's sad, in a way. To know that every species has just as many screw-ups as humanity."

"Even the asari?" Miranda teased as the door opened.

"Hey, you met Aria, you know so. Plus there was Nassana, and her sister, that new Eclipse member on Illium," the voice faded out of hearing as the door closed, and Miranda just smiled and finished her tea.


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note: Sorry for the later-day update, but I had to get some actual work done at work today. I did consider posting some Shepard/Nameless content for April Fool's Day, but ultimately decided I was far too lazy to write it._

* * *

Shepard sat in Miranda's office, looking over the thin details the Illusive Man had provided them. "This is not a mission I'm looking forward to," she muttered.

Miranda looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Why's that? Worried about us becoming indoctrinated?"

"I'd be an idiot if I wasn't," she responded blandly. "Something happened to the team sent there, and I don't think they decided to spontaneously convert to Amish." Miranda snorted softly in amusement. "I want technical experts with me, but at the same time, I don't want to expose them to the risk."

"You basically have to bring Mordin and Tali," the biotic said. "Like you said, you'll need technical experts. Either Grunt, Nameless, or Zaeed for muscle." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "I'd like to come along as well."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at that. "Why? Usually you're the one in charge when I'm on these long missions, aside from that whole Overlord thing." Miranda shuddered, her skin paling more than usual at the thought of Dr. Archer's experiment.

"You can leave Garrus in charge. I want to go to," she paused, clearly picking her words carefully, "make sure any mementos from the survivors can be sent back to their family."

Shepard considered this in silence for several moments. "Alright, we can do that. I'll bring along Nameless." Her mind fixed on the first sentence. "You suddenly feel comfortable with Garrus in charge of the ship?"

"He did very good when he helped me rescue Oriana. Even if he did then imply to her that we're dating," she muttered crossly, causing the commander to nearly choke on her coffee.

"He did _what_?"

Sighing, Miranda leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms defensively. "After we'd defeated the Eclipse merc, and I'd made sure she was safe, we were standing across the concourse from them. Just watching Oriana with her parents." She paused, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "He goes, 'Aren't you going to go and talk to her?' and I reply, 'No, it's better for her if she doesn't know about my life.'" She shakes her head slightly, smile growing a little more. "Then the idiot turian just marches across the room, takes her in a handshake, and goes, 'I'm Garrus Vakarian, hero of the Battle of the Citadel, and I'm here to introduce you to your sister.'"

Shepard was fighting very hard to hold back her laughter and not doing a very good job of it. "Oh, sure, laugh it up," Miranda complained mockingly. "Even though she's clearly in awe of him like her parents, she still picked up that we're obviously twins, and then starts asking questions like how we met and how long we've been 'together,'" she made perfect Udina air quotes, "and she'd already sent him a fan letter an hour after we left Illium." Shepard quit trying to hold back her laughter, giggling like a madwoman.

"Commander, we will reach the derelict Reaper in twenty minutes," EDI interrupted, making her try and fight down the hilarity. "Should I inform the rest of the team?"

"Yes, EDI, tell Mordin, Tali, and Nameless to be ready to go," she managed to blurt out before giggling again. Miranda's smirking wasn't helping.

* * *

They stepped through onto the Reaper, moving through corridors cleared and maintained by the missing Cerberus personnel. Nameless was in the lead, treading silently along, knives twitching as he glanced around. "Something _is_ in here with us, Shepard," he growled as they watched the first intact video log.

"Where is scientific team? Worrying. Indoctrination likely," Mordin muttered.

"Just stay calm and be ready," she said, keeping her own poker face in place. No enemies were showing up on her HUD, but she privately agreed with Nameless. "Let's keep moving."

They walked along the raised catwalk until the husks started crawling up over the sides. "I think we know what happened to the research team," Tali cried, launching her attack drone.

Giving a bellowing war cry, Nameless dashed forward, using one knife to cleave open the skull of a red-skinned husk, which promptly exploded, throwing him backwards, and nearly knocking over Miranda. "Bah! Keep those ones off of me so I can take care of the rest of them!" he shouted, bounding back to his feet to literally hurl one of the husks off the walkway and smash somewhere far below them.

The five of them blew through the husks, moving along the constructed pathways and picking up any left behind Cerberus technology of note. A few times, Miranda stopped to take pictures of the dead husks with her omni-tool, hoping perhaps for later positive identification of the dead. They moved into what had probably been a storeroom at some point, clearing out their opponents and finally stopping to gaze out the far side of the platform. Below them, somewhat distant, was a veritable forest of husk spikes, several of them still bearing dark stains. "Did they all just," Tali started, trailing off into silence.

Mordin stared at the forest of spikes, before speaking a string of salarian their omni-tools struggled to translate. "In the dark and inscrutable depths, the forest of kelp snares the souls of the unworthy," was what Shepard's finally gave her. "Loses something in translation," he added after a moment.

"How many were here?" Nameless asked, knives sheathed and hands steady on the railing.

"Two hundred and seventeen people," Miranda whispered, steadfastly watching the rest of the room after her first glance.

"Then we only have," he paused, muttering under his breath, "you can't take three from two, two is less than three, so you look at the four in the eights place," he returned to a normal speaking tone, "one hundred twenty three husks left. Assuming that it only takes one person to make a Scion, anyway."

Tali and Shepard both turned to look at him in horror. Mordin tapped at his omni-tool for a moment before nodding. "Was counting regular and exploding husks separately." He took in Shepard's shocked look. "Not pleasant, necessary to gauge remaining resistance strength. Unlikely forces have been strengthened by Collectors, but possible."

"Can we please move and get off this bosh'tet ship?" Tali pleaded, moving over to stand with Miranda.

"I agree," Shepard ordered. It took them a minute to hack through the next door, where they collected the IFF module. There was something indescribably _off_ about it, and she half expected the thing to leave behind a slimy coating as she picked it up and attached it to a magnetic hard point on her back. "How close are we to the drive core of this thing?"

"Not too far, Commander," Miranda assured her.

Their path took them back outside the ship for a short distance, stacked platforms joined with stairs and ramps and loaded with Scions. Nameless was in true form here, charging in to take the larger opponent in melee combat, accepting lethal blows to injure them enough for the others could finish them off. Even the Scions were not immune to this, as he slid past one of them, slicing one ankle open to the bone to send it wobbling sideways so that Miranda's biotics could fling it over the safety railing and off into the abyss.

When the numbers finally stopped, Shepard turned and glanced at Nameless with one raised eyebrow. "Seventy-three remaining."

"Is that all?" Miranda muttered under her breath, grabbing a last heat sink and sticking it into the empty spot at her waist.

"Shepard, why would the Cerberus scientists have enough ammo here to hold off a platoon of asari commandos?" Tali asked as they moved towards the last door.

"Are you really upset that the Illusive Man runs the whole Cerberus network on a steady diet of paranoia?" Shepard responded.

"We do not get solely paranoia," Miranda huffed.

"True," Mordin chimed in. "Also reckless disregard for safety protocols." Everyone, even Miranda, took a moment to enjoy the gallows humor, and then Tali had the door open.

To their surprise, there was a geth there, doing something to access a terminal on the far side of the room. A barrier stood between them, and Nameless immediately started pounding on the thing, attempting to break through. It looked over its shoulder at them, hands still working. "Shepard-Commander," it said, then looked at Nameless. "Undying."

Three husks were closing in on it at their normal shambling run, but it seemed determined to complete its task. "Speaking geth, unique. Spoke human," Mordin commented. A moment later, the barrier fell, just as the three husks started smashing at the geth, driving it to the floor. Shepard sniped one of the husks off it, while Nameless charged the other two. More husks started climbing up from beneath the platform almost immediately. "Miranda, concentrate on shooting the core! Mordin and Nameless, left side! Tali, right side with me!"

Gunfire and explosions filled the chamber as they fought, Shepard and Mordin incinerating husks by the handful, while Nameless often simply grabbed them and threw them at each other – especially the ones that exploded. Miranda kept up a steady barrage, only pausing for the 1.5 seconds she required to swap heat sinks in her pistol. When the core finally shattered, they were only up to forty-seven husks, as Nameless counted them out loud.

"Nameless! Grab that geth and let's run!"

"If you really desire a love droid," he paused to kick away a husk before slinging the synthetic body over one shoulder, "I believe I saw more realistic models on Illium!" Miranda shot another husk over his shoulder. "There's only twenty two left!"

"Forget them, let's get out of here," Tali said, already hacking the door open again. Joker, alerted to their location, had pulled up alongside the walkways, the Normandy hovering a bare ten feet away, seeming to shake slightly as the mass effect fields on the Reaper failed one by one and sending it falling slowly into the crushing atmosphere of Mnemosyne.

They raced for the ship, hurtling the gap into the open airlock. Nameless was last, teetering on the edge until Miranda pulled him fully inside and allowing the door to close. "Commander, Cerberus has a large outstanding bounty for any intact geth," Miranda said.

"What would they do with it?" Tali asked warily.

"Dismantle, experiment on intact technology," Mordin theorized.

Shepard shook her head, taking the synthetic body and carrying it into the ship. "I want to know why it knew my name."

"Curiously, I find myself in the same predicament," Nameless said. "Besides, they can always dismantle it later."

"Nameless, the geth is with us until I say otherwise," Shepard admonished over her shoulder, ignoring his heavy sigh of disappointment.


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Note: And now we come to what I thought was the weirdest mission for Paragon Shep. Really, it makes so much more sense to put Nameless in this. Especially when Shepard is hoping that every death is bringing him that much closer to a new personality._

* * *

Nameless was sitting at a table, idly carving at a block of wood with one of his knives, when Shepard exited the observation bay with Samara at her heels. She walked over to stand by the immortal and turned back to the justicar. "Really?" Shepard asked. "Because from what you've said, I think I know who her more likely target would be."

Samara stood very still, eyes flicking back and forth between them, before sighing angrily. "It … may be as you say," she finally muttered. Nameless smirked, still carving. "But I cannot trust him in this."

Shepard looked between them, and leaned over the table to look Nameless in the eye. "Samara's been hunting a killer who might be better than you," she said.

He raised an eyebrow, continuing with his whittling. "Really, Commander, that's awfully transparent psychology for you." He flicked the blade off, and tossed the carving to Samara. "It does sound quite intriguing, however. Please, do tell more."

The justicar looked at the carving, a rather realistic depiction of an asari being disemboweled by a husk, and crushed it with her biotics. Shepard ignored it to explain. "There's a genetic disorder among asari called Ardat-Yakshi. When those asari meld with someone, they fry their nervous system. She's been hunting one of them for the last four centuries." She grinned crookedly. "And from what Samara has told me, you sound like just her type."

He laughed. "You want me to go fuck as asari long enough for you to blow her head off? Shepard, I'm not that kind of man. I like a … different piece of the action." Gardner choked in the background, utterly ignored by all three of them.

"No doubt," Shepard replied dryly. "All you need to do is get her alone and stall her long enough for us to catch up. Do you think you can manage that, or do I need to find someone better?"

He gazed at her, eyes carefully neutral, then looked at Samara. "Please, give me all the details. I don't know why the bimbo of justice is hunting her, but," he turned his eyes back to Shepard, "she sounds intriguing."

"We'll be at Omega in an hour. Garrus is going with us to find where she's hiding and how to lure her out. Once we know that, I'll let you know what to do." She leaned over the table to lock eyes with him. "Got it?"

"But of course, Commander," he said, not moving a muscle. "I eagerly await your instructions," he added, with just the right tone of voice to combine mockery with sexual anticipation. Not reacting, she turned and left the mess hall. "I don't suppose I could have the wood back?" he asked Samara as she also turned to leave. The resulting throw hit him hard enough to fracture three ribs. "Thank you!" The knife came out, and he went back to whittling.

* * *

Omega was still as dirty and grungy as ever, and with no small amount of trepidation, Shepard thought the place suited Nameless just fine. She resolved, again, to keep him the hell away from Aria T'Loak, being unsure if they'd fall instantly in love and set up as king and queen, or if they'd decide to try and eat each other's still-beating hearts (a contest Nameless would probably win, to everyone's detriment). They stood in the lower marketplace, behind the store of the quarian, now hopefully safely on his way back to the Migrant Fleet.

"So, all you really want me to do is walk into this club, catch her attention, and suggest we head back to her place?" Nameless said. "This sounds too easy."

"The chance of her burning your brain out sounds easy?" Garrus muttered. "Then again, it's not like you're using it."

"Don't make me recalibrate your rifle scope, Vakarian," the immortal said blandly, causing the turian to recoil, sheltering the weapon between his body and the wall.

"Yes," Shepard answered the question, dragging them back on mission. "I doubt it'll take much more than walking inside to draw her attention, but be yourself without killing anyone," she added the last three words in a rush as his grin started to spread, "and that should do it. There are only three exits from the club, and Thane and Zaeed are watching the other two. We'll be nearby but out of sight, just in case."

"Yes, yes, get her back to her apartment and rut my brains out," he sighed. "I believe you're over thinking this, Shepard."

She pointed towards the stairs, and with him in the lead, they moved for the VIP portion of Afterlife. The doorman took one look at Nameless, flanked by Samara, and couldn't admit them fast enough. The combination between the elegant justicar and the brutish human was … actually kind of striking, she thought, and would never ever mention it aloud for fear they might one day hear of it.

There was a long hallway to get into the actual club, so the three of them took shelter behind several cargo containers while Nameless strode inside. After a few moments, Garrus moved back out into the marketplace, the better to follow Morinth if she left.

Inside the club, Nameless strode from the dark tunnel into the flashing lights and heavy bass beat. The crowd parted before him unconsciously as he moved towards the dance floor, taking the hand of an asari dancer and leaving a drunken turian wondering just what the hell happened. He whirled her around the dance floor, his motions refined and elegant and somehow not clashing with the brutal simplicity of the bone baldric and loincloth, leaving her trembling with a simple kiss to the back of her hand when she was finished.

He cruised through the bar, threatening a krogan, and convincing the bartender to give out one round of free drinks. Then a slim hand came to rest on his arm. "I couldn't help but notice you," she purred. "I have a private table in the back. Why don't you join me?" He looked down at the asari, slight smile promising danger.

"I would be happy to," he told Morinth. They moved to the booth, talking of travel, violence, art, and the rush of adrenaline. Before long, she was taking him by the hand, dragging him from the club and to her aircar parked nearby. Nameless glanced into the shadows on the way out, winking at the invisible Shepard without slowing.

In her apartment, he walked around, examining all of her trophies and making small talk, knowing he was just building her excitement as he paced around. Finally satisfied with the locale, he came over to sit beside her on the couch. "I don't have much experience with humans," she told him, tracing the scars up one arm.

"Even if you had, it would not have prepared you for me," he said softly, raising a finger to run down the length of one tentacle. "I am wholly unique."

"These must have caused you so much pain," she continued, her hand now tracing across his chest.

"Pain lets you know you're still alive," he whispered, his other hand gliding up her leg to her hip, guiding her as she moved to straddle his lap.

"Let me take away your pain," she whispered back, lips pressing into a kiss, her eyes glowing black.

He felt her start the meld, her biotic energy screaming up and down his nerves, harsh enough to draw a groan from him. It stopped suddenly as it overwhelmed him, his body going limp on the couch. Sated, Morinth sat in his lap, back arched, lips still pressed to his. "Oh, that was glorious," she finally said, stretching backwards and staring at the ceiling.

His arms suddenly squeezed, fingers digging into her sides hard enough to draw blood before she was hurled across the room to crash into the wall. "I think I have to disagree there," he said, bringing one hand up to lick azure blood from his fingertips.

Morinth gaped at him in shock. "That's not, you're, you're dead!" she screamed in disbelief, hurling a gravity slam at him. Even her greatest force did little but drive him to his knees, holding him for only a moment.

"Yes, I was," he said, and his knives were in his hands, blades flickering to life as he forced his way to his feet. "Funny thing, that," and he lunged forward, opening a gash on one hip as she desperately dodged towards the window. "I get better!"

He laughed mockingly, rolling through another gravity slam to deal her another long gash up one arm. Her punches and kicks, fueled by biotics and rage, did nothing more than slow him down, while he accepted the blows and dealt his own. By the end of the first minute, a half dozen slashes were trickling out blood, painful and burning with her sweat. "Stop toying with me," she shouted at him.

He rolled his shoulders loosely. "But darling, this is just the foreplay!" he taunted, lunging forward again, knife taking a strip of skin off her calf and nearly taking a couple of toes with it as she frantically dodged again, just a fraction too late. "Really, I think we could make this last all night," the last two words punctuated with hard punches, cracking her ribs and propelling her over the railing to crash against the side of the bed.

She had gotten to one knee when his leisurely stroll brought him up to her side, and her best shots didn't even slow him down. Grabbing her by one shoulder and her crotch, fingers digging painfully and obscenely into her, he hefted her body, and hurled her full force into the door of her apartment, hard enough to knock it completely out of the frame.

Morinth crashed to a halt in the hallway, vision blurry and tinged with blue, completely unable to focus. She was outside now, she should flee, but it was so hard just to get her body to move, especially when something heavy just came down on the shoulder that didn't have a hand-shaped indentation in it. She blinked rapidly, her vision clearing just enough to see who was stopping her. "Mother?" she whispered.

A gunshot echoed in the hallway, one eye and the back of her head vanishing in a blink, and her corpse sagged softly to the floor. Samara straightened up slowly, holstering her pistol as Nameless came out of the apartment. "Well, Shepard, you were right. That was quite an enjoyable evening." He brushed past Samara, still staring down at the face of her dead daughter. "Unless there's a couple more, what say we get back on mission? That refinery that Zaeed mentioned should be a ton of fun."

Ignoring the glares sent at his back, he continued on his way back to the Normandy.


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note: Here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for, the loyalty mission for Nameless! Naturally, absolutely nothing goes as planned, which shouldn't surprise anyone by this point. Hopefully you all like the surprise ending._

* * *

They continued roaming the galaxy, righting wrongs and killing villains. Nameless and Zaeed chased down Vido while she, Samara, and Kasumi saved the refinery workers; she very carefully left the immortal on board while helping Tali to clear both her own name and her father's; and she let him go along to tear apart a whole bunch of heretic geth before blowing up their base.

She was, in fact, going over the final preparations to go through the Omega-4 relay, when she was interrupted. "Commander," EDI said, "Nameless is in the elevator pressing the button for your cabin. I was not certain if it would be prudent to allow him entry."

She was silent for a moment, thanking whoever had managed to create the AI's safety protocols. "Tell him I'll meet him in the mess in ten minutes, alright?"

She wrapped up her sketchy plans, straightened her uniform, and stepped out. On the crew deck, Nameless was uncharacteristically pacing back and forth. "Do I get my turn now?" he asked her, snarling more than usual, and she took a moment to gather her willpower.

"Mind explaining what that's supposed to mean?" she challenged.

He waved his hands to emphasize. "You took Garrus to his former teammate. Helped Jack blow up her childhood, Jacob deal with his father, Mordin with his student, Samara with her daughter, Miranda with her sister. Took Grunt to get his little puberty rite." He stopped his pacing, leaning on a chair and causing it to creak alarmingly. "Do I get my turn now?" he asked again, his words slower.

Moving confidently, she sat down in one of the other chairs, her expression and posture a new challenge to him, and after a moment, he sat opposite her. "It depends on what you had in mind. Not everyone got to have everything the way they wanted it to happen."

In response, Nameless pulled out an omni-tool, and pulled up a holo of a man who looked faintly familiar. She stared it a moment before shrugging. "Before you killed him, he identified himself as Elanos Haliat." He fiddled with the device for a moment, changing to what looked like a wanted poster. "His name was actually John Harkness, aka 'Prince John,' a different Terminus pirate captain. _This_ is Elanos Haliat." The display changed a third time, displaying a turian face. Instead of the usual elaborate clan markings, he had a simple black paint design of three vertical black lines, one below each eye and one down his chin. "The paint is his own design, done to each member of his pirate band."

She studied the features. Not that she was that good at distinguishing turians past the face paint, but still. "So, that wasn't the real Haliat. What's the point?"

His feral grin bloomed onto his face. "I have found the real one. In addition to being responsible for the enslavement or murder of around two thousand sentients, he was behind the Blitz, using Harkness as his stalking horse." His hands pressed flat against the table's surface as he leaned forward, his expression hungry. "I want to take him down."

They stared at each other for several long moments. She heard the door to the forward battery open and then close again. "What's the catch?"

He leaned back, somewhat satisfied. "When we catch him, if we can take him alive, I want him. Just Haliat, and me, in a closed room, for an hour, with no interruptions." He grinned even wider. "You know my proclivities, and I know your morality. An innocent, no, but this man is no less a butcher than I, and ridding the galaxy of him will be a good deed."

This time, it was her turn to lean forward, gaze uncompromising. "What is the damned _catch_?" she insisted.

He was silent for several seconds before raising the omni-tool. "He inhabits what is essentially a private wilderness compound on Illium. In addition to a dozen servants and hangars-on, he employs a dozen Eclipse mercs inside the compound and two dozen outside. All air traffic is monitored, and his only-legal-on-Illium missile battery is capable of taking out even that tank you acquired. We'd have to land two or three miles away and hike in, against his mercenaries, mechs, and whatever reinforcements he can summon."

She stared at him, her gaze flat. "So, what, you figured you and I would just storm the bulwarks by ourselves?"

"Hardly," he scoffed. "Just because I prefer the brutal simplicity of melee does not make me ignorant of strategy and tactics." He brought up a satellite view of the compound, and laid out a plan that, to her great surprise, was well thought out and played to the strengths of her squad.

"Alright," she reluctantly nodded when he finished. "But, on one condition. That hour starts when we hit the edge of the compound." He frowned, staring at his own plan, before reluctantly nodding. "We'll hit it tomorrow." Rising from her chair, she headed back towards the elevator. "EDI, tell Joker to lay a course for Illium. Also, look up and see if there's still a reward for this guy."

"Shepard, hold the door," she heard Garrus call, and waited with the elevator open as he jogged to catch up. As soon as the door shut, she looked up at him with an arched eyebrow. "Are we really doing this?" he asked.

"What's your problem with it?"

He hesitated, mandibles flexing as he sought the right words. "I have no problem with us going to take out Haliat – he's a nasty piece of work, and if I'd known he was still alive, Archangel might have paid him a visit. But, following Nameless' plan?"

She shook her head. "I looked it over carefully. Jack will be with me, and while she's still not best buds with me, I do trust her to keep our asses out of a sling."

"That's not what I meant." He tapped the wall of the elevator. "On all of these missions, someone at least has been on board to guard us. Even if it was only Jacob or Kasumi."

"I thought you liked Kasumi," she teased him, watching his expression quickly shift to revulsion.

"Spirits, Shepard, I just ate! All I mean is that they're not the instruments of destruction that myself, Zaeed, Grunt, even Samara are. But still, someone with combat experience was here. This plan has us all on the surface. What if this is just a set-up to get us away from the ship?"

Her puzzlement showed clearly on her face. "Garrus, while I don't doubt that Nameless might consider trying to steal my ship, who would he betray us to? And aside from that, Joker's going to be cloaked, in orbit, as soon as we take off for his compound. Relax, and consider how much fun it's going to be playing sniper with Thane and Zaeed." She patted his scarred mandible, only mocking a little, and hit the button for her cabin.

* * *

_Seven hours later_

Three sniper rifles aimed down at the compound from the top of the ridge. The elevation was fairly slight, but it was just enough to see over the crafted berms of earth and rock stretching between the guard towers at their own elevation. From half a klick away, without their scopes, the guards were tiny blurs of blue and yellow as they paced back and forth, clearly bored. Fenrir mechs sat in standby next to each one.

"What are we waiting for?" Zaeed grumbled. "Let's light a few of the goddamn bastards off."

"We wait for the signal," Garrus said patiently, letting his visor track his chosen target while he half dozed. The midafternoon heat was perfectly comfortable for him, while the human had his environmental controls running full cold to stop his profuse sweating, and Thane was latched up to keep out the jungle humidity.

Ten minutes later, a massive explosion rocked the jungle on the other side of the compound. "Finally," Zaeed muttered, and in a matter of seconds, seven guards and two mechs exploded on their side of the compound. "Can we open up on anyone now?"

"Just don't hit our guys," Garrus said, picking out a LOKI mech as it opened a doorway from the mech storage building, popping off its head and taking down the one behind it as it exploded.

"Shooting guys in the back was always Vido's style," he muttered, squeezing off another shot.

Thane just lined up target after target, only the word 'Amonkira' audible in his whispered prayers.

* * *

On the other side of the compound, Miranda glanced back from the pilot seat. "Everything ready?" Jacob was head and shoulders out the top hatch, but he dropped his left hand down to give her a thumbs up, while Kasumi just nodded from the gunnery chair. "Targets designated, Charlie, Able, and Will. Fire at Will."

Jacob squeezed the trigger of his shoulder-mounted Cain, the audio beep quickly spiraling up in pitch until it hit ready. Then they got to watch the trio of YMIR mechs cascade into secondary detonations as their power cores explode, shrapnel clearing a thirty meter clearing in the jungle. "That's what I'm talking about," he said, dropping inside and pulling the cupola closed as he moved to reload the heavy weapon. "I want to carry this thing more often!"

"Jacob," Kasumi said as she started firing rockets at the two armored cars heading in their direction, "please stop sounding like you need to compensate for something." In the driver seat, Miranda opened her mouth, then closed it without saying anything. Some jokes were just too easy, and she should really leave those for Joker.

* * *

Just out of sight in the jungle next to one of the berm walls, Mordin scanned the area with his omni-tool while Tali fidgeted and Legion just waited. "Clear," he said, and the three of them charged forward. Grappling lines were shot up over the top, anchoring themselves in the packed earth, and they quickly scaled the ascent, watching the guards in their towers collapse, headless. One Fenris mech came running along the berm, leaping down towards the salarian, only to get tossed aside by a sniper shot while mid-air.

"I'm glad they're on our side," Tali muttered. Reaching the top, they whipped their lines up and over the inside, rappelling swiftly to the ground. All the attention inside was focused on the continuing explosions. "Which way?"

Legion and Mordin both pointed towards a small attachment to one of the guard towers, and they sprinted in that direction. Grunt's krogan battlecry echoed over the walls as Legion simply grabbed the door controls, pulled them out of the wall, and connected three wires together. The door sprang open, and Mordin ducked inside, scanning the readouts and controls with a speed only another salarian could match. Three seconds later, all power in the compound was cut off, the main gate swung open loosely, and the missile battery drooped, deactivated. "No backup, no challenge," he complained, though quietly.

As if to prove him wrong, one wall of the mech storage building suddenly collapsed, and two more YMIR mechs emerged, flanked by a dozen LOKI mechs. "You just had to say something, didn't you?" Tali complained, launching Chiktikka at them as they raced for cover. Legion's drone was also drawing fire, even as the geth sniped one head off a mech. While sprinting, she noted grumpily.

"Creator-Tali'Zorah, the verbal expression did not have any effect on the outcome of mech activation," it added.

"Shut up, you bosh'tet," she complained, raising her shotgun to stagger another mech as she dived behind the corner of the building. "Shepard better get whatever we came here for!"

* * *

Nameless looked over his shoulder as the three of them jogged through the open main gate, watching as Grunt grabbed an Eclipse merc by one arm, her arm popping audibly from thirty feet away, and hurled her through the air at her partner, just in time for Samara's shockwave to hit both of them. "I taught him that move," he said, pretending to wipe away a tear from his eye. "They grow up so fast!"

"Alright, we're here. The clock started already," Shepard said. "Main building first. Most likely he'll be in there." They moved at a quick jog through the compound, missed in the chaos. The Eclipse mercs were completely demoralized, what with their heaviest mechs already down, communications hampered by lack of power, and gunfire and explosions coming from inside and outside their compromised base. Two of them even tried to take off in an aircar, only for Shepard to put a couple bullets and a plasma blast into the engine casing, sending them spinning off into the jungle somewhere else.

They burst through the door, knives cutting down an asari merc before she realized he was there. They moved confidently through the corridors, dealing with a couple of turrets, and looting the place. "Man, Shep, why didn't we hit this scumbag earlier?" Jack asked, draping a chain of diamonds over her head. "Imagine the biotic amp I could buy with these!"

They paused outside the door to the master bedroom, and Jack blasted the fancy carved wood open with another shockwave, ducking behind a chrome table as Haliat opened fire with what sounded like a minigun. A plasma burst from Shepard made him flinch, the gap just enough for Nameless to charge in, taking three or four shots before his knives separated the turian from one of his hands. "Now," the immortal said, breathing heavily, "we're going to have some fun."

The single gunshot from the corner cut him off, the bullet punching through one cheekbone and sending him tumbling to the floor. "Are you counting this on his time?" Jack asked, giving the female turian a biotic slam as she cowered in the corner.

"Of course I am," Shepard replied dismissively. "Heck, I'm surprised he's not back up already." She strode across the room, picking up the pistol and slapping a set of restraints on the woman.

"Where am I? Who are you people?" came a very different textured voice. Both humans turned around to stare at a Nameless who seemed far smaller than the previous one. "Oh my god, that person is missing his hand." Turning to look at their brutal appearances, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he promptly fainted dead away.

Wordlessly, Shepard, Jack, and Haliat stared back and forth from each other to Nameless. "If I surrender now, do I get to live?" he asked, his other hand tight around the stump, blood still trickling out.

Motioning to Jack to treat their prisoner, Shepard activated her comm. "Miranda, hurry up out there. We have a situation here, and I want us off this planet soonest." She looked back at the unconscious Nameless. "Of all the stupid rotten timing. Is there anything else that's going to go wrong today with this mission?"

* * *

On board the Normandy, cowering beneath the stairs in Engineering, Joker was thinking the exact same thing.


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's Note: And so, we get to the end of the ME2 storyline, DLC notwithstanding. Nameless, this one at least, won't be there for those, but he won't be sitting around idle, either._

* * *

Miranda was livid when they returned. "You unshackled the AI! The entire crew is missing! Why didn't you do something?" she railed at Joker.

"That's enough," Shepard growled, her voice sharp enough to make everyone flinch back. Most especially Nameless, who Samara had been studying non-stop since their rendezvous at the shuttle. "EDI, how the hell did they find us?"

"There was a signal being broadcast by the Reaper IFF. I have identified and disabled it. They will no longer be able to track our location," the AI explained confidently.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the bulkhead and sighed. "Fine. We go after them. Unless anyone has any last minute business that absolutely has to be taken care of?" She cracked her eyes open, glancing one by one between the members of her squad, receiving nods and gestures of acceptance from everyone.

Except for this new Nameless, who was tentatively raising his hand. "What is it?"

"I, ah, well, I, um, don't think I'm suited for this kind of combat mission," he finally blurted out in a rush as the whole room turned to glare at him. "I really don't know how to use these things," he gestured to the knives, still belted on at his side.

She sighed heavily, giving him a new once-over. He was now the third, or maybe fourth, depending on if he'd changed right at Alchera, version of Nameless she had met. "Mordin, have you had any luck getting that omni-tool to work?"

The salarian did a very human flip-flop with his hand. "Have been able to reconstruct only ten percent data, with Tali's help," he said, obviously disappointed with his slow progress.

"With everything else you've been working on, that's pretty good, actually. We've got three hours, max, before we're going through the Omega 4 relay," she said, capturing Thane's look, watching that little smile on his lips with the respectful dip of his dark eyes. "Mordin, let Nameless hear the first entry or two. Everyone get what rest you can." She swallowed through a suddenly thick throat. "We're going to go kick the Collectors right in the daddy bags."

Grim and resolute, everyone left the meeting room, Shepard watching everyone leave before she finally followed them out, going through the lab to watch the confused Nameless sitting down and starting to listen to the voice of the original, as she thought of him. Mordin had given the new one a quick physical, and he was still the same height, the same weight, but the differences were shocking. The original, once awoken after Eden Prime, had been a solid pillar, an immovable object. The psycho she'd been running around had been a giant monster, filling a room with his very presence, even when he was unseen. This new one was practically invisible, and had he demonstrated the slightest bit of combat aptitude, she'd have made Kasumi give up her cloaking device.

Shaking her head, she stepped out onto the CIC, staring at the empty, listening to the quiet. The stations made their quiet little hum, electricity singing through the aerogel keypads and holographic displays. But there was no human life, no quiet shatter or muttering, no Kelly bounding all over, chatting with everyone with those light, human touches that never seemed to go beyond casual flirting. "It is the silence of the depths," Thane said, making her jerk around in shock even as she identified the voice. "My apologies, siha, I did not mean to startle you."

He straightened up from his casual lean against the wall next to the elevator. "Not your fault, Thane. I'm on edge. We all are," she murmured, stepping forward, letting his arms slide around her as she pulled him tightly against her. "How did they know the ship would be undefended?"

"Likely they did not, but simply took their chances. How much more difficult would our task be, if even one of us had been on board and overwhelmed while protecting the rest of the crew?"

Closing her eyes again, she rubbed her cheek against the smooth scales at the base of his neck. "Your logic is impeccable, and I still hate it," she teased him, listening to his breath catch as she slipped her hands under his shirt.

"Hopefully, there is some way I can make it up and regain your good graces," he whispered, raising one hand to cup her jaw and tilt her face up towards him.

With only a fraction of an inch separating their lips, they were interrupted by a rude catcall. "Thane and Shepard, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Joker shouted down the neck of the ship, hands cupped over his mouth.

Amused, Shepard turned to look at him, letting Thane plant soft kisses on her cheek. "I have a plasma burst here with your name on it," she countered, waving her omni-tool from behind Thane's back.

"Getting back to flying the ship, yes ma'am," he laughed, turning his chair back around. She could faintly hear EDI questioning the pilot about his motives for teasing them, but ignored it as Thane turned her, backing her into the elevator, and forgot it completely in the kiss that took up their ten second elevator ride.

* * *

In the science bay, Nameless sat, mind whirling. The first entry had finished playing, and Mordin was graciously allowing him the mental and physical space to consider all of the implications. The occasional piercing whistle from the seeker bugs was annoying, though, as the scientist poked, prodded, and dissected them.

"Did I have it with me?" he asked out loud, mind and senses filled with an object, a brass sphere, almost the size of a skull, cold and smooth against his scarred and insensitive skin, filling his nose with the stench of rotten eggs. He blinked, looking over at the salarian, who was frowning in confusion. "The brass sphere," he explained, holding his hands up at exactly the right size.

"Do not believe so. Was not listed in original archeological dig or mentioned by that Nameless," Mordin said quietly. "Valuable?"

He rubbed the back of his head, the crawling cold, like worms made of liquid nitrogen creeping up his brain stem, now gone, and with it the vivid memories. "I don't know. He, um, or I, I guess, mentioned it being important." He stared down at his scarred hands, flexing them slightly. "Going through a tomb designed with traps only he could survive. Something you had to die and then get back up again to get past." He looked at Mordin again. "If that's what happened to me, then why don't I remember any of this? Why am I different?"

"Unknown. Conducted many scans, some minor experiments. Mechanism for continuous resurrection still unidentified." He smiled, picking up the scalpel that just finished cutting the third seeker apart. "Could do more experiments, if you like."

"No thank you!" Nameless said, shrinking back. "I'm in no hurry to die and find out if I come back to life!"

"Good." The force behind the scientist's declaration made the immortal blink in surprise. "Shows wisdom, forethought. Previous Nameless valuable in combat, but short-sighted. Had good timing on personality death."

"Er, if you say so," Nameless muttered. "I'm going to listen to another one, if that's alright?"

"Go ahead. But must caution, no chronological continuation. Data fragments retrieval somewhat random due to damage." Mordin had already turned back to his dissection table, marking out any minute differences between the three seekers as Nameless keyed up the next intact entry.

"To my surprise, fiddling with the joints on the little doll produced a portal," the original said in his ear, and the crawling ice went up his neck and into his brain again, giving him flashes of the Modron Maze, simple hackneyed opponents and trite treasures generated to try and reduce the unpredictability of adventuring to an equation.

* * *

Their brief fight through to the base was terrifying in the extreme, and it was hard to know if it was because he wasn't involved in it, or because he might become involved. The next two hours were filled with the quiet dread of waiting, his only companion the unusually taciturn pilot and the computer for company.

Then suddenly came the rest of the crew, racing for safety, supporting each other, with Tali guarding their retreat, blowing away a small crowd of husks one at a time with her shotgun. "What's wrong," one of the crew asked him, an older woman with a charming accent, "why aren't you out there fighting?"

"I can't," he told her simply, as he stood in the airlock, helping people on board, trying not to let his legs tremble so badly they sent him crashing to the ground.

She stared at him for a moment, the pain and exhaustion in her eyes not enough to stop her from making an evaluation. "You've changed," she declared, "you're a different Nameless. Again."

"That's what they told me," he agreed. The last of the crew was on board, with Tali now standing guard in the airlock, her shotgun at the ready. The husks had dispersed for the moment, but something told him they would be back.

"Nameless, go to the armory and pick up the missile launcher on the shelves on the left," the quarian ordered him, and he gaped.

"I don't know how to use it," he babbled, shifting backwards.

"I do, you bosh'tet! Move it!" she swore at him, summoning her drone as a new wave of husks came running towards them. "Hurry!"

Stumbling over his own feet, he ran inside, managing to slip past crew members without knocking anyone over, and into the armory. "The second one from the left," EDI helpfully told him, and he grabbed it in one hand. "I also recommend grabbing the last one on the right," she told him, and shrugging, he picked up the organic-looking weapon, running back to Tali with the weapons held over his head, almost brushing the ceiling.

"Here," he said, holding both of them forward. She holstered her shotgun quickly, grabbing the missile launcher. "What should I do with this one?" he blurted.

"Point it at them and pull the trigger!" she shouted as she launched a missile at the largest clump of husks, blowing four of them apart and wounding three more. "Honestly, this is worse than training children," she muttered, without realizing her vocalizer was still on.

Taking a breath, he pointed it at the husks, squeezing the trigger sharply. The brilliant beam of light danced and wavered as he trembled, leaving vicious charred lines across the husks. Still, his efforts were enough to weaken them and make them easy prey for Tali to finish off.

They did this for the next hour, holding off one wave after another, a mind-numbing blur of adrenaline combat, until they saw the rest of the ground team running for them. Mordin was leading the pack, Jacob and Miranda at his sides, cutting themselves a hole. The base was shaking itself to pieces as they ran, and they streamed aboard just before the ramp collapsed.

Zaeed shoved him roughly down to his knees, almost making him drop the beam rifle as gunfire erupted inches above his head. "Where's Shepard?" Garrus shouted, his own sniper rifle cracking out shot after shot. "Where is – oh, spirits," he swore.

They watched her running, racing for her life as Joker tried to keep the ship steady and close enough for her to make the slowly widening jump. Panicking, Nameless realized, right as her feet left the ground, that she would fall short. Dropping prone to the deck, he dangled his arm down, holding on to the butt of the rifle for dear life, hoping both that she could catch it and that he wouldn't drop it.

To his surprise, she did catch it, and he didn't drop it. That was where things started to fall apart. "I can't lift her," he gasped out, having to repeat it two more times before someone heard him. Garrus dropped down next to him, pulling on his arm as Jacob grabbed the baldric and strained, pulling his whole torso six inches off the deck. With a little biotic assistance from Samara, they managed to get Shepard high enough to grab a handhold, and inside.

"Joker, get us out of here," she shouted, letting EDI slam closed the armored door. "Good job," she told Nameless, right before he passed out from the exhaustion of adrenaline letdown.


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note: Yes, Morte gets to reappear, and talk to Nameless. Morte will be back in the story from now on, for everyone who missed the wisecracking skull. Maybe I can even talk him into doing some Hamlet. Those elcor need pointers._

* * *

"Come in," Shepard said, and Nameless cautiously pressed the button for her cabin door, stepping inside and looking around. The fish were swimming around cluelessly, and he could just make out her hair through the wall of models. "Come on down, have a seat," she said casually, and he did so, perching nervously on the opposite end of the couch.

"You've come to a decision on what to do with me," he murmured, watching her nod.

"I can't keep you on the ship the way you are," she said bluntly. "You're no good for a combat mission. That whole debacle on Aite demonstrated that." He winced, the memory of how he'd almost destroyed the Hammerhead with an involuntary spasm of fear still fresh in his mind. "You're not a danger to anyone, if you're kept out of combat, but I have other dangerous things to do, and I can't bring you with me."

She paused to sip the water sitting on the table, and he nodded glumly. "You're foisting me off on the Alliance along with the boy, then?"

"Soon, yes. I have one other stop to make, first. You won't be going into combat with us," she reassured him as his shoulders hunched in, "but there's someone there who knew the original you. And several others beside that."

He closed his eyes, sorting through the jumbled memories all interlocked in his mind. He had listened to all of the recordings, scattered and confused as they were. A sudden rush of fiery pain right behind his eyes brought the memory of his hand, holding a floating, disembodied, _talking_ skull. "Morte," he said, his voice almost the original's, enough to make the hair on Shepard's neck prickle. "You want me to talk to Morte while you're doing," he waved one hand vaguely as he watched her expression, "whatever dangerous combat mission you're on."

"Got it in one," she confirmed. "When we leave, I'm hoping that Morte will go with you. Hopefully, given what you've said about listening to the recordings, talking with him will bring back more of them. If not," she shrugged, "hopefully Conrad can help you." She watched his blank expression, obviously searching for a reference. "Don't remember him? Trust me, no loss there."

"If you say so," he replied uncertainly. "I'll ensure my few possessions are gathered together."

He rose, moving towards the door, as she also rose and put a hand on his arm. "I'm doing this because I don't see any better option to keep the current 'you' safe, and because Mordin is cautiously hopeful it will bring back your original memories. Not because I want to get rid of you."

His smile was weak, self-deprecating, and understanding. "No, I understand, Shepard. Right now, my terror makes me a liability to the crew. I understand that." She nodded, letting her hand fall, and he went up the steps, pausing at the door. "Is it all right if I leave my omni-tool with Tali? She had better luck reconstructing the data than Mordin did."

"Of course. If she'd been on board when I found you, I'd have given it to her. By the time she came on board, it had slipped my mind because I was used to dealing with psycho-you." He winced at the reminder. "We should be arriving at Illium in about two hours."

"I'll be as ready as I can be," he said quietly, the door swishing closed louder than his footsteps and almost louder than his voice. Sighing, Shepard sat back down at her table. She wasn't sure if asari celebrated Christmas, but giving Liara the Shadow Broker's location had to count as a good present.

* * *

Five of them walked into Liara's office, the secretary now conspicuously absent. "Shepard, how good to see you again. Who is," she paused, evaluating, "a new Nameless?"

"Ah, yes," he said quietly. "Nice to meet you. Again, I suppose."

The asari smiled, shaking his hand cheerfully. "A great improvement over the last one, right Morte?"

"You got that right, boss," the skull said, floating up off the shelf to hover a few feet away. "Huh, the quiet type, huh? I always like those."

"Beats getting nailed to a shelf, doesn't it?" he said without thinking, pausing as the importance of the words hit him, Morte's jaw falling open. "I don't know where that came from," he murmured.

"Wait, you remember the shelf? With the creepy necromancer and all his pet were-rats?" Morte blurted. "Totally awesome, dude!"

Shepard and Tali both blinked at that. "Dude?" Tali hazarded.

Liara sighed, moving over to lean against her desk. "Morte has, somehow, found the time to watch Terran surfer movies in between data analysis." She smiled tiredly. "I don't suppose you came here to discuss boring entertainment vids, though."

Grinning, Shepard just handed her the data disc, watching Liara's expression as she skimmed the contents, eyes slowly growing wider. "This is accurate?"

"It's from Cerberus. Despite my telling their boss to go fuck himself when I blew up the Collector's base, this was waiting in my inbox when we got back." Shepard spread her hands. "Mordin said it appears legit. Tali checked it for viruses or data traps. But you're the information broker here."

"I have some other sources I can verify it through. Meet me at my apartment in three hours," Liara said excitedly, giving Shepard the address.

"You don't mind if we leave the big guy here, right?" Zaeed muttered, hooking a thumb at Nameless and Morte, now withdrawn to a corner, discussing were-people transformations, or something like that. "He's about as useful as a goddamn paper shield."

Liara hesitated, obviously seeing something indescribably familiar as they continued their discourse. "Is he actually regaining his memories?"

"It seems that way," Shepard said. "Most of his audio recordings were destroyed thanks to close to two years on Alchera, but from the few Mordin and Tali were able to salvage, he has remember some pieces of his original memories. I hoped that talking with Morte would do the rest."

"It seems worth the risk. Morte," she interrupted, the skull instantly whirling around and bobbling over to her. "Keep the office safe, and talk to Nameless. Keep anyone who's not Normandy crew out."

"You got it," he said seriously before returning to the immortal.

"You actually got him to listen?" Tali marveled as they all departed the office.

"Actually, it turned out to be very simple," Liara said. "All I had to do was try the Lysistrata gambit."

Tali was going to ask what that was, but Jacob's sudden explosive cough, combined with tripping over his own feet, derailed her train of thought. "You alright, Jacob?"

"Just fine," he strangled out through a coughing fit, quite glad his dark skin kept any blushes from being visible. But from the playful gleam in Liara's eyes, she knew he'd understood just what she meant. He was not, however, going to play into her hands and ask how the hell that was even possible, since he didn't really want to know.

* * *

An hour later, the door to Liara's office was forced open. The late afternoon shadows shot lines of brilliant light through the office, mixed with lines of shadow. The asari invader stepped inside, looking around cautiously, but the place was deserted. Still, Liara had a reputation for finding people who had attempted to break into her place, and even though her detection tools showed no surveillance cams, she kept the mask on.

Hacking the terminal on the desktop was tough, but within her skills. She shook her head irritably as she finally got in, scratching the itch she was feeling on her tentacles, and scowled as she saw what the information broker had been looking at last. "Shadow Broker is going to be pissed about this one," she muttered to herself.

Not bothering to turn the terminal back off, she rushed out of the office, pausing at the stairs to remove her mask, only to find it was already missing. She quickly checked her pockets, finding it missing completely, and turning around, the door had locked again. Growling in frustration, she ran down the stairs, letting her biotics catch her at the bottom. She could come back here after the little bitch was dead and clean up. Only thing was, she couldn't even remember taking the mask off.

Inside the office, Nameless put the mask over Morte where he sat on the shelf. "That was pretty damn good, chief. How'd you manage it?"

"We were talking about Annah, and Pharod, and everything I passed on to her, and learned from her, was still fresh in my mind." The immortal shrugged, and stepped backwards into one of the patches of shadow cast by the nearby skyscrapers. To Morte's eyes, he simply dissolved into the shadow, completely invisible. "Honestly, I'm hoping this is one of the memories that stays with me."

"I bet Shepard will even take you on combat missions once you demonstrate that," Morte predicted, forestalled by a shuddering shake of the head that left him visible for a moment.

"No, no, that's not what I want. I don't want to hurt anyone," he protested. "The last me did more than enough of that. The memories I have from the original suggest that most of 'me' did far, far too much of that." He reappeared, slumped down on a chair. "Enough to drown a planet in blood."

Morte floated over, rolling mid-air to dump the mask on the floor. "Do you remember what started it all?" Nameless looked up, hopefully, only to be dashed by the expression on the skull. "Rats. You never told me, either. Just that it was enough you wanted all of eternity to fix it, and that last moment in the Fortress of Regret, I thought you had."

That memory was sharper than the blades he still carried, colder than the Alchera surface, woven thickly with prickly thorns of hatred growing from heavy vines of responsibility. "So did I," he whispered.

They sat in silence for several moments before Morte floated back up and over to the terminal. "I better tell Liara about this invader, before she gets ambushed or something."

Nameless stood, walking over to watch. "Oh, that is disgusting, Morte!"

"Wha?" the skull protested as he pressed another key with his tongue. "Hey, you try typing up an e-mail with no hands," he complained before licking the next letter in line.


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note: This is a short chapter. This whole week has been full of major headaches at work, and while I want to write Nameless and Conrad's remeeting, it's not coming out the way I want. So in the meantime, enjoy some conversation and some Morte/Liara._

* * *

Having completed whatever dangerous task was involved with Liara now, Shepard returned with the team, looking much scorched and shot at, even Liara looking battle scarred this time. "Come on, we're going back to the Normandy, and putting an end to this, so that I can get you two and the younger Archer off my ship," she growled, Zaeed nodding behind her as he checked his rifle over.

"Uh, sure thing, Shepard," Nameless said quietly, picking up Morte to keep him incognito as they moved quickly back to the Normandy's dock. "Where are we going next?" he asked nervously as they waited for the sterilization procedure to run.

"There's no _we_ in this," Liara said crossly. "Shepard and I are going to hunt down the Shadow Broker and put several dozen bullets into him."

"Hard core, sweetums," Morte said, earning his own death glare from the asari. "Do you need my help with anything?"

Tali and Shepard both stared in surprise at the skull because of the question. "Did he _really_ just," the quarian murmured, as quietly as she was able.

"Morte, given where we're headed, you'd likely be lost for good," Liara said, her expression softening.

"Aw, c'mon, what is there that I couldn't handle?" Morte scoffed. "I helped you get away from the Shadow Broker agents before, I helped you with that traitorous Nyxeris."

"You're not going to help me in eighty kilometer an hour winds in the middle of a thunderstorm, Morte," she smiled, caressing one side of his jaw with one hand.

"You've got to be goddamn shitting me," Zaeed muttered.

"Well, I suppose technically, all he really needs is the tongue," Jacob replied in disgusted fascination, "but I don't know what he gets out of it."

"Shepard, do you recall when I threatened to flay someone with my mind?" Liara asked calmly.

"Shutting up now," Jacob said, affecting a parade rest stance and fixing his eyes on the ceiling.

"Wait, you mean, you and her," Nameless babbled to Morte, waving a hand between them.

Grinning even more arrogantly than usual, Morte floated even closer to Liara. "Gimme some sugar, baby," he leered, and leaned in for a French kiss.

"I think I'm gonna goddamn puke," Zaeed moaned, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Is it possible," Shepard asked acerbically, "for anyone else to focus on the mission?"

"I'm focused," Nameless said. "I'll be sitting in the mess, talking with Morte about anything he can remember about Sigil." He sighed, as the airlock door finally opened to allow them entrance to the ship. "Sadly, he's not triggering as many memories as listening to my own voice was."

"Try it anyway," Shepard growled over her shoulder. "I need to make sure Garrus and Samara are ready to go for this mission."

* * *

Three hours later, Nameless and Morte stared in horrified fascination as David Archer covered half the window with a complex mathematical formula, and was apparently computing the square root of pi out loud as he did so. "And Shepard thinks taking you to the same place as this kid is a good idea?"

"It beats having me running around with her as a combat liability," Nameless said quietly, not wanting to disturb the boy. "I have no idea whether that even has a connection to what we were talking about." Their previous subject of conversation had been the giant golem-smith, locked inside a water tower in the wards.

"Beats me," Morte said. "Why do you remember that thing, though? I mean, of all the crazy people we encountered on your trek across the city and the planes to recover your memory, that guy?" He swiveled in the air, clearly shaking his head.

"One of the fragments of recording was talking about what we were doing in the wards, right before we went in there to see it. Something to do with continuing her thief training," Nameless said softly. "Speaking of people I don't remember, who is Conrad?"

Blinking in surprise, Morte started to chuckle, which rather quickly graduated into a full-throated laugh, and then to hysterical giggling as he rolled around every axis uncontrollably, tears streaming from his eyes at one point. Even David had stopped to stare. After a good five minutes, he finally subsided into hiccups and then finally righted himself to look at Nameless. "Oh stars, I haven't laughed like that in," he paused to think, "ever? You really don't remember Conrad? Like, at all?"

"If I did, I wouldn't have asked," Nameless replied crossly, sulking on the bench seat.

"Well, I'll give you the short version, then. Conrad was, quite possibly, Commander Shepard's number one greatest fan." He grinned mockingly. "I say 'was' because then Shepard showed up at the Citadel with you. First, you scared the crap out of him, then you took him on as one of your magical students."

Nameless frowned as he digested this information. "I was teaching him magic? The same as Tali?" The quarian, much friendlier now that he didn't have the personality of a master serial killer, had attempted to teach him the three spells she had retained from the aborted training he had been giving, but either her teaching skills were nonexistent, or he just wasn't capable of learning it anymore. Right now, as far as he knew, she was down in Engineering, bouncing ideas off of Ken and Gabby to restore the omni-tool and, hopefully with it, the rest of his memories.

"You were teaching a whole bunch of them, actually," Morte said. "Not just humans, either. There was a turian and an asari in the group, too, but all your students, aside from Conrad and Tali, were killed over Alchera with the rest of the crew." All the levity was gone by that point, and Nameless had a momentary flash of awakening on the surface, fighting to reach shelter before the cold and the lack of breathable air dragged him down _again_.

He shook off the memory with a shudder. "So, what's Conrad doing at Grissom Academy, then? Running the galaxy's only school for wizardry?"

"Well, actually, yeah," Morte said. "Did you hear about it somewhere?"

"That was a joke. Or, I thought it was. He's really teaching wizardry there?" David, he noticed, had gone back to ignoring them, and was quite calmly turning every bracket in his equation into a heart.

"Oh. No, Conrad really is teaching wizardry. He was your best student, and apparently he's managed to come up with a few new spells you hadn't taught him. So he teaches a magic class alongside the biotic training that goes on there."

"It sounds like it'll be interesting to meet him again," Nameless said.


	23. Chapter 23

_Author's Note: I really wanted to get this out on Wednesday as usual, but recently work has been kicking my butt. Still, I didn't want people to wait a whole week before getting to see Conrad Verner, Artificer Mage, in action._

* * *

Nameless hadn't been eager to go along with Shepard and Liara to take down this Shadow Broker person, but that didn't mean he was uninterested in what was going on. So once they came back, he downloaded the video from Shepard's helmet cam, and had a brief momentary flash of memory, watching the lithe Annah lunging out of hiding, plunging her punch daggers into the side of a gigantic demon, and dart away again as it turned towards her.

Sadly, the vision was bereft of context, since none of his memories had mentioned demons like that, nor the blasted, apocalyptic landscape they had been standing in. Sighing, he turned off the omni-tool display, looking up to find Jack sitting across the table from him. "Can I help you with something?" he asked cautiously.

"You really don't remember anything, do you," she said crossly, not exactly asking a question.

"No, no I don't, but from what I've heard people say, I am glad of that fact." He shuddered slightly at the thought. "Very glad."

"Why?" She sounded honestly curious, if still highly suspicious of him. "Why are you glad that you can't remember anything from more than a month ago?"

"Because from what's been said about that person? I don't want to be him." She frowned, and he searched for better words to explain what he meant. "What makes us who we are, but our memories? If I remember what he has done, then won't I become him?"

Her scowl deepened at that. "What about the scars, and the tattoos? Don't they have something to do with who you are?" He looked over her own tattoos, wondering if she was trying somehow to relate to his situation.

"They should, I suppose, but, how do I know what that something is?" He traced a hand over a vicious-looking scar across his left arm, bisecting several others. "Where did this scar come from? What happened to the one who dealt it? The same thing goes for all of these tattoos." He clasped his hands tightly in his lap, staring down at the table. "I search for the memories of the original both to tell me what happened to bring me here, and because from what I've heard, he was a good, if scary, person."

"So does that mean I can stop expecting to have to slam you into a wall every time I turn around?" Despite the sarcastic tone, he could tell she was still wary of him, expecting this whole change in personality of being a trap of some kind.

"I'll try not to sneak up on you accidentally," he said, attempting to reassure her. But he was also remembering his startling of Doctor Chakwas, earlier that morning, who hadn't even heard him open the door to med bay.

Jack fixed him with a glare as she rose from the table, and he spread his hands disarmingly. He was saved from any further scathing retorts by EDI coming over the intercom. "We will be docking at Grissom Academy in ten minutes, Nameless."

"Thank you, EDI," he responded courteously. Several members of the crew were going to take the opportunity to tour the station with Shepard, mostly as an excuse to get off the Normandy and stretch their legs. Thane, of course, was at Shepard's side, along with Mordin, and Chakwas was guiding the Archer kid along. To his surprise, at the last minute, Jack joined them, having grudgingly shrugged into the leather vest she picked up on Illium to at least approach Alliance dress codes.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, but she refused to even look at him. Both of them trailed along behind the group as they entered the station, uncomfortable with the squeaky clean Alliance station and protocols, though for different reasons. As they passed by one classroom, Jack turned to watch the biotics training going on. "Damn, what a bunch of pussies," she complained.

Naturally, the door was open, and the instructor heard her. "Who the hell are you? Leave my students alone," he shouted at her. "Alright, Rodriguez, try that again."

"I was talking about you too," Jack mocked him before the teenager could try another shockwave. "I'd have more protection from a shirt than your lousy barrier."

Shepard had paused their tour guide, watching with interest. "I don't know who let this hoodlum in, but I have better things to do than listen to some tattooed tart interrupting my class."

"Oh please. C'mon, take your best shot. Hell, have the whole class do it," Jack continued to taunt him. "It's not like you're going to hurt me." She brought up her own barrier, and extended one arm in a martial arts pose. Only instead of a standard beckon, she flipped him off.

Growling, the instructor fired a shockwave at the tattooed woman, which failed to have absolutely any effect. She then promptly fired her own shockwave back at him, shattering his barrier and flinging him into the far wall. "That's how you do things, you little bitch," Jack taunted him. "When you're facing down a room full of mercs, you don't pull your fucking punches." She looked over the class. "Anyone think they can do better?"

Several of the students started nervously talking among themselves, and at last, three of them approached. "Can we try it together?"

For the first time, she seemed out of her depth. "Uh, yeah, sure, if you think you can take me."

As everyone stopped to watch, the three students exchanged glances and nods, and then launched their attacks in near unison. Two shockwaves battered Jack's barrier, and a warp finally broke it. "Good to see at least some of these kids have potential," she said, nodding brusquely.

"Nothing else to say?" Shepard asked dryly. Jack looked at her blankly. "Maybe some medigel for the guy you knocked unconscious?"

Huffing, Jack turned back to the class. "What was your name again? Rodriguez?"

Eyes wide, the teen nodded. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Don't fucking call me ma'am," she growled. "Get that idiot treated. And don't hold back. Batarian slavers and Collectors aren't going to hold back. Unless they want you alive, anyway."

"That's more like it," Shepard said brightly. "I'll let you stay here and take care of the rest of the class, Jack."

"What?" she exclaimed. "I'm not a fucking teacher!"

"You break it, you bought it. Besides, you've got more talent in your pinky than he does in his whole body," Shepard said. "And I don't think Conrad really needs to deal with you when I reintroduce him to the new Nameless." The Commander gestured, and Nameless joined back up with the rest of them, leaving a wide-eyed Jack in a room full of teenagers.

"Commander, no offense, but are you sure that's a wise idea?" Chakwas asked quietly. "Jack is certainly talented, but she's not exactly a caring personality."

"Jack is plenty caring in her own way. She's going to be rough as hell on them, yeah, but only because she doesn't want them to go through what she did." Shepard shrugged, and then they opened another door into a wider room.

"That's it. Maintain proper breathing hold the words in your mind, and then release," a blond man with a goatee was saying. "Set the power free." He pointed a hand at a target across the room, and uttered three syllables. Two blurs of light shot out from his hand, dodging around the two people in the way to impact with solid-sounding thunks. "Oh gosh, Commander Shepard! Class, ah, practice your magic missiles." He hurried over to them, a broad grin on his face. "Nameless! You did live through the crash! I was so worried, I practically didn't eat on the escape pods. Tali had to yell at me to get me to open an MRE." With a sudden movement, Nameless found his hand being shaken.

"I wish I could say it's a pleasure, but I'm not the same Nameless you knew," he said, not unkindly. "Conrad, wasn't it?"

"Conrad, did you get my message brief?" Shepard asked. "Or have you been too busy?"

"My days are swamped, Commander. Four hours a day teaching two classes of mages, and eight hours spent working on enchanting specialty items for N7 personnel." He grinned broadly. "I did see your message, but I wasn't sure how seriously to take it. I mean, amnesia with personality shift like that? It's like a bad movie." He stopped to study Nameless again. "But I guess you're right."

Morte popped up from behind Nameless. "Dunno how well he's going to work out here. Tali tried teaching him again too. No luck."

"Hey, it's the mouthy skull!" Conrad held out a fist, and Morte smacked his forehead against the knuckles. "You here to harass all my students?"

"Eh, sure, why not? Someone's got to keep an eye on the Chief." Laughing the blond man snagged Morte in one arm, rubbing his knuckles against the top of the skull. "Augh! Lemme go!"

"Looks like everything is perfectly set up here," Shepard laughed. "Nameless will need a room, but he travels light."

"I'll get one of my students to set him up. Oh, did you notice, we're even teaching a couple on non-Alliance here?" He gestured to one corner of the room, and both Shepard and Nameless blinked as they took in the student in question.

The volus looked at the target, and waved a hand dramatically. A green arrow sprang into being, leaping over the other students to splatter into acid against the target. "Hey, Niftu, have you ever met Commander Shepard?"

Pausing his spell casting, he waddled over. "Hello again, Commander. I am grateful for your having discouraging me back on Illium. Once the effects of the drugs wore off, I stopped to re-evaluate my life, and as luck would have it, I saw an article about this magical training school here." He snuffled through the speech, and then held out a hand to Shepard, who shook it bemusedly. "My personal value to my clan has doubled with my acceptance here."

"I'm glad to help," Shepard responded, confused.

"Wow, Commander, you really do meet everybody, don't you?" Conrad said. "Will you be staying long?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, but no. I only came here to bring Nameless, and David Archer. He's a mathematical savant. I have an urgent mission straight from Admiral Hackett to get to."

Conrad winked. "Say no more, then. But before you go, let me get you something. I'll be right back." He dashed out of the room, leaving Shepard and Thane sharing amused looks, while Nameless studied the rest of the class. "Here, Shep." He handed her a ring.

"Conrad, I'm flattered, but you're not my type," she said.

"Oh, you! No, it's not like that. It's a ring of protection," he explained as a blush rose in his cheeks. "There's a protection spell that was in the stuff Nameless had given us, and I figured out how to put it into an item! Jewelry works best, because that way you can trade out your armor without losing the spell bonus."

"It is an incredible gift," Thane said, taking the ring and slipping it onto Shepard's finger, leaving her to blush outrageously.

"Thank you for bringing me, Commander," Nameless said, before the moment could get too much sappier. "Even if I can't relearn the spells here, hopefully I can be of some use around the station."

She clapped him on the shoulder without the baldric, and nodded. "You'll do fine, Nameless. I'll come back when I'm done with Hackett's mission and see how things are with you."


	24. Chapter 24

_Author's Note: Yes, I borrowed the turrets from Portal. Because let's face it, they're awesome. Niftu and Conrad get some moments of awesomesauce, Nameless goes Hulk. As always, I love reviews, and I love my fans._

* * *

The next six months passed by in a blur for the people aboard Grissom Station. Nameless mostly sat and watched the mage classes, while Morte floated around, alternately chiding, insulting, and encouraging the various students. He had tried, continuously, to cast a magic spell, but he couldn't manage the basic light spell, let alone more advanced ones. To his surprise, not only had Jack stayed behind as a biotic instructor, but she swiftly became the most popular one around, much to her confusion.

Right now, he was lurking in the rafter shadows like a demented comic book hero, watching and brooding. The students were all practicing casting while wearing armor. David and some of the other genius students had built several small automated turrets, sensitive enough that the smack from a magic missile would turn them off, but that fired real rounds. Conrad had already sent two students off to the medical ward, criticizing them for both lack of awareness and failure to account for their armor when doing the hand movements.

He frowned suddenly, hearing a noise from nearby, and closed his eyes, tuning out the students and listening closely. Gunshots, and not the high pitched, rapid-fire of the turrets. "Conrad!" he shouted, causing the blond teacher to hit a control to put the turrets into standby. "Someone's firing weapons inside the station. Not turrets."

There was a sudden thudding sound, deep enough to cause the floor to shiver underneath them, and Nameless dropped from the ceiling. "That sounded like an explosion," Niftu snuffled out.

"All students, shields up. Jia, reprogram the turrets to treat us as friendlies, everyone else as hostiles," Conrad said firmly. He yanked open a desk drawer, pulling on a pair of bracers, a silvery headband, and a personal shield generator. "What?" he said defensively to Nameless' raised eyebrow. "I'm confident in my spells, but I'm not stupid. I'll take every ounce of protection I can get."

Three of the other students were moving the turrets near the door already, and after a few moments, Jia nodded. They powered back up, tiny red optics scanning. "Are you still there?" one asked. The door opened, and a man in heavy armor, holding an assault rifle, with blood splashed on his boots, stared at the students. "There you are," all three turrets chorused, opening fire. His shields were blown through instantly, but the armor was sturdy enough to stand up to the light rounds, and he leveled his rifle at the group.

"Turn these things off, or I open fire!" he ordered.

Before Conrad could respond, Nameless had already stepped past the turrets, staying out of the line of fire, and ejected the block of metal ammo. The soldier glanced down as it thunked on the floor, and looked up just in time to see a ball of acid dissolve the front of his helmet. He opened his mouth to say something else, and a stray round from the turrets went in through his nose and turned his brain into jello.

The turrets stopped shooting as he toppled to the ground. "I don't get it," Conrad said dimly, "these guys are Cerberus! Shepard was working with them. Why would they attack the facility?"

"Maybe they disagree with teaching aliens?" Niftu said sarcastically.

"It doesn't matter. We need to get somewhere more defensible than a classroom," Nameless said. "I'll scout ahead for you."

"Good plan," Morte said. "I'll stay here and keep up everyone's morale."

"Everyone, bring up your spell scroll programs," Conrad ordered firmly. "If there's more of these guys, we'll all be out of spells quickly." Before Nameless could stop him, the mage stepped out into the hallway, stopping. "Oh, hey, there's more of these guys."

"Freeze!" One of them shouted. Nameless stuck his head out far enough to see a full dozen men, three of them pointing guns in Conrad's direction, one of them hiding behind a giant shield. In response, Conrad pulled out a small glass rod, pointed it at them, and fired off a lightning bolt the width of the hallway. It arced and sparked between the twelve men, dropping all of them to the ground, smoke and the scent of cooked pork filling the hallway.

Jia turned pale and promptly threw up in the wastebasket. "Conrad? Remind me not to annoy you."

"Uh-huh," he replied faintly. "Pass me that trash can." He then followed Jia in puking his guts out. "I've never had to kill anyone before," he stammered.

Morte thunked his bony forehead into Conrad's shoulder. "Buck up, buddy. There's a lot more where they came from."

"Come on, Morte," Nameless said, striding down the hallway in the direction the intruders came from.

"Hey, what happened to me being moral support?" the skull demanded quietly.

"I might need a distraction. And what are they going to do, kill you? You're already dead," he said quietly, pausing at the door into one of the atriums and putting a finger to his lips.

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Morte grumbled.

Nameless tabbed the door control, and they looked over at twenty men in the white and yellow armor, guarding a crowd of instructors and students. Against one wall were the bodies of a few more, clearly executed to gain the compliance of the rest. Faintly aware of his fists clenched tightly enough to make his tendons squeak, the immortal pointed at the far corner of the room. "Distraction. Now."

The skull briefly opened his mouth before wisely closing it again, and floated up near the ceiling to traverse the room. No sense giving it away before he had a chance to really get annoying, after all. Once in position behind the plants, he scanned them through narrow eyes. "Hey, Johnson! Tell your wife she still owes me twenty credits for that booty call I gave her last night!"

One of the Cerberus thugs holding a shield whirled around, letting out a burst with his SMG that didn't come anywhere close to the skull. "This is what you let into your squad, Brutus? Just because he's willing to swallow, you overlook his piss-poor marksmanship?" Another soldier opened fire with his shotgun, muttering something unflattering in Italian.

None of them saw Nameless coming as he sprinted across the room, grabbed one of the benches by an armrest, lifting it over his head and bringing it smashing down across four of them. The bench shattered along with their necks. Half of them whirled back around, the immortal vanishing into the blind spots provided by their helmets, and a second later, one of them screamed as his weapon arm was torn free of his body.

"Back in together!" one of the goons shouted, his shield clutched tightly. "Form a damn perimeter!"

"That's really pathetic, Taylor," Morte mocked him next. "You join up with Cerberus because mommy didn't _love_ you the way you wanted her to? Wink wink nudge nudge?" With his own roar, the man turned towards the corner with the skull, firing his own weapon blindly into the planters, allowing Nameless to slide through his shadow, kick one of them in the crotch hard enough to crack the armor plate, and then slide the weapons from the downed goons over to the captured staff.

He was about to do more, when three of the goons suddenly floated into the air, captured by a singularity. He looked back, spying Jack with several of her students on the second level of the atrium, and the Cerberus men were all suddenly slammed into the ground as the students focused their gravity slams. A barrage of magic missile came flying in from the hallway to take out the floating ones, battering them all into unconsciousness. "Thanks for starting the party," Jack shouted down.

"Yeah, sure," he called back, panting harshly. _Apparently I'm a little closer to that vicious psychopath than I thought I was_, he considered worriedly. "Anytime."

"You okay, boss?" Morte said, floating over. The staff were already grabbing up the weapons and shields, sending the students up the stairs to the control room. "I think I hear more gunshots."

"Mages, stand ready," Conrad said, then looked around. "Over there, use the planters as cover." They all hustled over, except for Niftu, who stood unmoving in front of the door, waiting for whoever was firing to come closer.

Nameless moved into a position next to the door. If the volus was volunteering to serve as a distraction, well, he'd make use of it, and hopefully keep him from getting killed in the bargain. When the door opened, to their surprise, there was just one guy there. "A volus?" he said, confused, his gun not quite pointed at Niftu.

"I am no mere volus. I am a biotic god!" he taunted, and let fly with the most pathetic biotic slam Nameless had ever seen. He could see Jack's jaw drop in shock, as the guy raised his weapon. But before he could fire, Niftu's _other_ hand made a slashing motion, and a blade of pure blue magical energy suddenly slammed in through the weak armor of his armpit. "Brooks, what was that insult you used the other day?"

The teenage wizard apprentice scratched his head. "A putz?"

"No, the other one," Niftu said, shaking his head.

"A schlemiel?"

"Yes, that was it." He stepped over and kicked the corpse, almost toppling over. "Schlemiel. Oh, look, Commander Shepard. What timing."

Everyone stood up as Shepard entered, her sniper rifle held cautiously. Liara and an unfamiliar female-shaped mech were flanking her. "Conrad, Jack, Nameless. Glad to see you guys have everything here under control." She grinned behind her faceplate suddenly. "Jack, are you breaking the furniture again?"

"Wasn't me this time," she protested. "Nameless pulled back out his inner badass all of a sudden."

He smiled uneasily, and waved a hand in the direction of the corpses against the wall. "I've decided I really don't like these people," he said.

"That is perfectly understandable," the mech said, causing him to squint at her.

"EDI?"

"Yes. I have acquired this mobile platform from them. Cerberus has poor motives, but they do build quality devices." He stared blankly at her, but she didn't add her usual, "That was a joke," so he supposed she was serious.

"How many people do we have here?" Shepard asked, regaining control of the situation.

"I've got all fourteen of my mage students here," Conrad said. "We were practicing. Also, our practice turrets." When Shepard raised an eyebrow, Brooks held up one of the white, egg-shaped devices. "They're good for shields and distractions, anyway."

"All of my students are up here," Jack called down. "We're all fine, but tired. Blasted our way across a quarter of the station."

"What about the genius contingent? Archer, and the rest of them?" Shepard demanded. Everyone shrugged, even the captured staff. "Fine. Nameless, join me for the moment. Conrad and Jack, follow us with your groups. You know the station better than me, so if there's somewhere you can set up to flank, or provide covering fire, take it."

"You heard the woman, maggots! Drink those energy drinks, and get ready to move!" Jack shouted, ripping the top off her own drink pouch.

"So, Nameless, how goes the magical learning?" Liara asked politely as they opened the doors out to the 'park' at the center of the station. They had hardly moved anywhere when Cerberus troops came storming in the other doors.

"It's been better," he shouted, charging up the ramp from cover to cover, the troops mostly firing past him. Two soldiers with shields were inching down the path. Shepard put a round through the narrow viewplate on one, the massive Widow nearly decapitating the man. The other shouted in surprise as Nameless picked him up and hurled him over the side to land face first, two stories below, in the dirt.

As they fought their way across the park, the biotics and mages showed up on the balcony above Nameless, firing down into the skirmish. Magic missiles, at least, couldn't miss their target, even if they were less debilitating than a biotic slam. Conrad's contributions were rarer, but far more deadly, as was proved when he sent another lightning bolt into an engineer and his turret, causing the device to explode and take out the two people next to it, too.

With the park cleared, they stepped into the next hallway. "You can't stay in there forever, kid," another goon was threatening.

"I don't need to," David Archer said. A side door opened, and a turret the size of a person stepped out on four legs.

"There you are," it boomed in a threatening bass, and opened fire. The three Cerberus goons were shredded, the guns leaving fist-sized holes in their armor. "Are you still here?" it asked rhetorically, scanning the hallway.

"David?" Shepard asked, gobsmacked.

"Ah, David helped design the turrets the mages have been using for practice," Nameless said, equally surprised. "I didn't know they came in that size, though."

"Hello, Commander Shepard," David said, gesturing the other two students to turn off the portable shield generator.

"Hi." They just stared at each other for a few seconds, David's eyes focused on her chest – not from any perverted desire, just his usual social ineptitude. "Well, David, why don't you two stay behind us? Ah, does this thing have a name?"

"Elvis." They both waited several seconds for any kind of elaboration.

"Because Elvis is the king, right?" the girl student asked.

"Right," Shepard said, blinking and shaking her head. "Nameless, scout ahead, will you?"

"Sure thing," he responded easily. He couldn't wait to get off of this station.


	25. Chapter 25

_Author's Note: And now we take a sudden lane change in the plot. Don't worry, I won't be leaving the krogan out of the plot, because I have something utterly badass in mind for Wrex, but for right now, we're going to skip ahead for a bit. Also, does anyone actually ship Conrad/Jack? I think that'll be my favorite crack-pairing of the moment._

_Have you ever felt like you wanted to leave a review but didn't know what to say? Wanted a response from the author but he ignored your "nice update" review? Check out the "How To Review" thread in Aria's Afterlife forum, right here on fanfiction dot net._

* * *

"But Commander-" Conrad started to protest again.

"No, Conrad," Shepard said firmly, a vein on her temple starting to pulse. "Hackett says you'll be of more use on the Crucible project, and as much as I'd like the magical backup, I agree with him. That little 'detect indoctrination' spell you came up with is absolutely needed there, and only two of your students are capable of casting it."

The blond mage slumped down in his chair, sighing dejectedly. "I want to help save the galaxy, Shepard," he said quietly.

"If anyone who's been indoctrinated sabotages the Crucible, _nobody's_ going to save the galaxy," Shepard huffed out, her mouth curling into a tiny smile.

"I don't suppose I can take Nameless with me?" he asked wistfully, causing the immortal to look over in surprise. The mess decks were half full as people finished the breakfast rush, and he had been talking with Liara about what little he could remember, letting her memories of his own tales try and fill in some of the blanks. "I was getting fond of the big lug. He was good for helping them practice combat drills, too."

"No," he said suddenly, overriding whatever Shepard might have said, and causing her to look at him in surprise. "No. Tali had the omni-tool with all of my recordings. Liara has a copy, but reconstructing the data seems to require someone who's more of a technical adept than she is."

"Why?" Shepard asked quietly. From the look in her eyes, he was pretty sure that she knew his answer, but he said it anyway, as much for Conrad's benefit as hers.

"I saw the video. The original me, with all his memories, took Nazara apart in a minute or two. Conrad's good, but he hasn't progressed to throwing around entire meteor showers yet. In his favor, he's creating spells I'd never even thought of. Not like Sigil had a need to combat Reapers." He had a sudden, sharp memory, of being inches away as the shadow of the Lady of Pain fell across someone, and seeing nothing but a pile of diced meat and bones as it passed along. He shook his head to clear his mind.

"He's right, Conrad," Shepard said. "The things you can do, that he can't, are why you're needed on the Crucible."

Sighing again, Conrad grudgingly shook his head. "Alright. You're right, of course. It just, it galls me, that after all I've learned, I still can't be a hero."

Morte snorted, overhearing the last as he floated into the mess hall from Liara's room. "Are you kidding me? Have you listened to your own students lately? They watched you in action on Grissom station. The only person with a higher kill count than you was Jack." Verner turned slightly green at that. "You stepped between them and an Atlas, shouted, 'You shall not pass!' and then turned it into scrap metal."

"Very ballsy," Jack said, shoving Conrad down the bench seat and plopping a plate of toast and gravy down. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to impress me," she added, giving him a level stare.

"I, ah, um, no, I wasn't," the mage stammered out, turning the color of the ketchup bottle on the table.

"Good," she said, taking a huge bite of the top piece of toast, gravy dripping down her chin suggestively. "You're still too much of a boy scout for my tastes."

"And on that note, I have places to be," Shepard said hurriedly, getting up from the table. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." She started to turn away, then turned back to point a finger in Jack's face. "Not in public, got it?"

"Sure, take all the fun out of it," the biotic mock complained. Conrad nearly choked on his hurried swallow of coffee. Nameless followed Shepard, slipping into the elevator right before the doors closed.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're about to suggest that I drop everything and take you to straight to the Migrant Fleet to get Tali and the recordings. Even though I'm supposed to be heading to Tuchanka to get the krogan into the fight."

Nameless held up his left hand. "The krogan people united for war." He held up his right hand. "The ability to rip apart any Reaper you come across."

They were silent as the elevator opened and they stepped out into the CIC, Traynor glancing over her shoulder with a smile. Shepard stepped over to her terminal, staring blankly at the dark screen, then slammed a fist into the railing. "Fuck," she hissed out, causing Traynor to stare, wide-eyed. "Do you know how shitty a decision that is to make?"

He nodded, swallowing against a dry throat. "I have a rough idea, yes. The longer it takes you to bring the krogan to help Palaven and Earth, the more turians and humans die. For a wait of however long it takes Tali to finish the recordings, and me to gain back enough memories to take back my mage skills to start dismantling Reapers."

"You're asking me to gamble with people's lives," she snarled at him, stepping challengingly into his personal space, green eyes glinting as she stared up at his face.

"No, you're already gambling with people's lives, like it or not, and you have been since you were hunting down Saren," he replied sadly. "I'm asking you to change the stakes a little bit."

They stood in silence for several seconds, staring into each other's eyes while Traynor tapped away at her terminal and tried to gain the ability to turn invisible. Finally, Shepard sighed, turning away. "Samantha, you've probably got intel on where the quarians are right now? I hope?"

"Actually, I do. All the quarians in Citadel space started packing it up and heading out towards the Perseus Veil about a month ago. The Migrant Fleet, or at least a large chunk of it, was in the Dholen system." Shepard made a face at the memory of Haestrom. "From all indications, they're set to go to war."

"Oh dear departed ancestors," Shepard groaned, covering her face with both hands. "If I move to shoot Han'Gerral, don't stop me. It's not like it's bad enough facing the Reapers, the quarian Admirals had to go decide to start a war with the geth that they can't win."

"If we leave now, we should be able to get there before the main offensive starts, I think," Traynor said quietly.

"Joker, get us moving, EDI will tell you where," Shepard ordered into the intercom panel next to the galaxy map.

They emerged from the relay right into the oncoming path of what looked like every liveship in the Fleet. Joker put some of his pilot skills to good use, getting the Normandy the hell out of the way, while Shepard started yelling at the quarians in true Hero-Of-The-Galaxy™ fashion.

Before too long, Zaal'Koris came on the channel. "Shepard, I'm glad to hear from you," he said simply. "The rest of the fleet is already inbound for Rannoch. Tali and I both tried to talk them out of it, but that friendly geth you had disappeared while you were imprisoned. And that cast its own shadow over the debate," he added disparagingly.

"Fine. Lead the way. In case you hadn't heard, the Reapers aren't just coming, they're already here," she spat back. "Every quarian who dies fighting a pointless war against the geth just makes it easier for the Reapers to put the rest into the galactic history book."

Koris sighed heavily. "I know you don't particularly like me, Shepard, but I'm on your side, here. Daro'Xen and Han'Gerral are the ones promoting war, especially Xen."

"I thought she was just interested in her toys?"

"She was. Then one of her toys turned out to be a perfect way to utterly blind geth sensors, giving us the chance at a crippling first blow. So she decided to enlist Gerral's help and get a bigger toy box to play with." He shrugged almost apologetically right as Shepard cut the channel with a snarl.

"Joker, get us there and out in front of the quarian fleet," she shouted. "Nameless, tell Garrus and Vega to armor up, just in case we have to go somewhere." He nodded, hopping into the elevator quickly and holding onto the rail as the ship shuddered in time with Joker's slaloming around the liveships.

* * *

Three hours later, he was back in the CIC. "Here?" Shepard pointed to a spot on the surface.

"Scans indicate a clear Reaper power signature. The geth have not responded to any hails since we arrived, but I have been attempting every fifteen minutes as you requested," EDI told them.

"On the upside, the quarians listened when you threatened to personally shoot the first ship who attacked," Garrus said dryly.

"Tali's on her way over in a shuttle now," Shepard said with a glance at Nameless, "but that still leaves us of how the hell to deal with a Reaper who looks to have hacked the Consensus."

"Just tell me we're not facing a Reaper on foot, Lola," Vega muttered, causing Garrus to grin.

"Much as I'd like to see the geth freed from Reaper control, I must agree with Vega," Liara said. "Facing a Reaper on foot is suicide."

"We might have to," Shepard said grimly. "It's in a facility here, on the edge of this mesa. It's one of the small ones, but it's inside the facility. To blow it up, we'd have to take out the whole facility."

Everyone stared at the hologram for a moment before Nameless cleared his throat. "I don't want to sound callous, but, well, so what?" Everyone turned to look at him, EDI's face in a firm expression of disapproval. "Don't they have backup copies somewhere?"

The moment of pregnant silence was finally broken by EDI. "While they might, it would be akin to waking up having lost the last month of your life." Nameless gave her a flat stare. "While that prospect might be less worrying to _you_, I think most organics would find it far more worrying." Everyone else nodded.

"I don't see how it matters," Garrus said. "We can get to orbit without being detected, but the moment we hit atmosphere, the geth will be all over us to protect their new Reaper overlord. Thanix cannons aren't designed to fire down through atmosphere, either."

"I thought you were the master calibrator?" Vega needled.

"Doesn't matter how I calibrate it, going through thirty kilometers or more of atmosphere is going to leave the beam so weak it'll hardly tickle." Garrus didn't sound angry, just matter-of-fact about it.

"It almost makes me wish Conrad had learned how to teleport," Nameless muttered, stepping over to the archway of the storage closet and resting his hand against the doorframe. A quiet but piercing sound resonated through him as he did so, and every eye turned to see the air of the archway shimmer like a heat mirage. Overlaid on the containers was an image of the arid surface of Rannoch, the facility in question at most a kilometer away.

He jerked his hand away in surprise, and the shimmer vanished so suddenly he half expected to hear a popping sound. "What the hell was that?" Shepard asked nervously.

"I, well, I'm not sure," he said. "But, that looked like a door. Sigil, the city of doors. Literally any enclosed space like that could be a portal. Half of them just go to somewhere else in the city."

"Then where do the other half go?" Liara asked, curiosity obviously aroused.

"Anywhere. Literally anywhere. People stumbled in – and out – to hundreds of different worlds. Some of them were so dangerous that a regular human would be instantly dead on the other side." He recalled the woman in the street who had given Morte her dancing teeth, the teeth he still had, in fact. Her scarred body, melted and warped by her crazed attempt to find the portal to lead her back home.

"This isn't Sigil," Shepard said. "So don't try to tell me that I've had a secret portal on my ship since the Alliance moved the Armory back downstairs. How did this oh-so-convincing portal get here?"

"I have absolutely no idea," he said honestly. But the creepy icy snakes curling up and down his spine told him that the original Nameless, the one with all his memories, the one with a _name_, did know.

"More importantly, can you bring us back again?" Vega asked. "I don't really want to trust in geth benevolence after we gank their Reaper puppeteer."

"Gank?" Garrus asked, making Udina-style finger quotes.

"Yeah, Scars, gank. As in, to utterly and beyond recognition fuck up his world." Vega puffed out his chest, crossing his arms over it for extra muscle showing-off effect.

"Don't make me send you both to your rooms," Shepard threatened. "Tali! How'd you like to be the first quarian to set foot on the surface of Rannoch?"

The quarian in question paused with one foot still in the elevator. "You're going to take the Normandy down? Won't they detect us when we hit atmosphere?"

Shepard grinned. "Not exactly. Nameless just found us a back door." The immortal tried to contain his sinking feeling of dread as Shepard started explaining their assault plan.


	26. Chapter 26

Once the portal had been explained, Tali naturally insisted on testing it. The Normandy was capable of getting high resolution pictures from orbit, so they grabbed a blue shirt, tossed it through the portal, and watched as it flew out in real time. "If I hadn't already learned how to produce light with a snap of my fingers, I'd be complaining about the laws of physics right now," Tali said, sounding faintly ill.

"That is scary impressive, Tats," Vega said. "But I'm still waiting for you to beat a Reaper laser with a rock."

"It was a really big rock," Shepard added. "Everyone ready to go?" Helmets locked into place, heat sinks snapped into place, and everyone nodded. For a brief moment, she wished they hadn't sent Conrad and Jack and their students off to Hackett on the captured Cerberus ship before jumping out to Dholen.

Vega and Garrus were first through, with Shepard and Liara on their heels, EDI and Tali behind them, and Nameless bringing up the rear. They emerged from a natural stone arch only slightly too small to drive a Mako through. As Nameless stepped away, the portal vanished, but it reopened when he put his hand on the stone. "At least we can retreat if things go badly," he said nervously.

"We're going to get in there, gank this Reaper," she glanced with amusement at Vega as she used his word, "and get out while the geth are recovering. Then maybe we can figure out what happened to Legion and strike a more lasting peace." Lifting her sniper rifle, Shepard motioned them forward.

They covered the three-quarter kilometer distance quickly, the arid desert baking under local summer heat. To their surprise, no geth units appeared to stop them until after EDI hacked the door into the facility. Then various platforms, basic at first, started emerging to confront them, until finally they were stuck in a sort of courtyard, with two primes in front of them and a trio of juggernauts coming up behind them.

Gunfire and tech attacks were strong enough to keep them from being completely pinned down, and despite his still rather novice skill with a pistol, Nameless was helping to at least keep the geth off balance. Glancing up ahead, he saw the tell-tale shimmers of geth infiltrators coming up from behind the primes. Growling under his breath, he continued firing wildly, looking around for inspiration.

As inspiration struck, he ducked out of cover, running up one wall to grab onto the overhead beams holding the sunshade, and launched himself into a graceful tuck and roll, landing behind the infiltrators. Reaching out, he grabbed ones weapon, turning it and blasting one of the primes in the back before it could react. The one next to it he did the same, only blasting the first infiltrator instead. The backshot prime staggered suddenly as Liara's biotics started shredding its outer layer, and a moment later Garrus' sniping left it headless.

With their cloaks down, the geth infiltrators were much easier targets, and the wounded one dropped as Nameless looked around quickly, spying a third one heading his way. Casually, he reached out and tapped it on the shoulder, causing it to pause and look around, somehow not seeing him from two feet away. He waited until it took a step past him, reaching up and snapping the backwards and down, leaving it paralyzed.

With the primes now down, everyone could focus on the juggernauts, retreating while firing. When those foes had fallen as well, they took a brief moment for a breather. "Commander, we may not need to descend into the facility to stop the Reaper," EDI said suddenly.

Shepard swallowed a mouthful of water from her supply, looking interested. "Alright, why not?"

"From my analysis, the Reaper is broadcasting a control signal to an amplifier in orbit, most likely on board the geth super-dreadnought. If we can reach the roof, we can disable the broadcasting equipment." EDI pointed to a nearby part of the facility, three stories taller than their current location – a roof that bristled with both equipment and weaponry. "The Reaper will still be able to control local geth, but the ones in orbit will no longer be under Reaper control."

"So we can talk to them, convince them to help us," Shepard mused. "Can we get up there?"

"It is well defended," EDI cautioned, "but we will face less opposition than reaching the bottom of the facility to cut off power to the Reaper."

"Alright then, let's move," Shepard ordered, and everyone started trotting towards the door that, hopefully, would lead to stairs.

Tali was looking around widely, even as she held her shotgun professionally. "One thing bothers me about this place," she said. "Why would the geth design a building with a courtyard? It's not really functional, organics build them to add aesthetic and beauty to a building."

"Maybe they're more like you than you thought," Garrus said, putting his back against the wall while EDI hacked the lock.

"Keelah, Vakarian, you don't need to tell me that," Tali shot back. "I fought with Legion."

"And sometimes beside him, too," the turian continued, causing the quarian's glowing eyes to narrow.

The door popped open, and Vega and Garrus stormed inside, quick bursts from their assault rifles taking down two basic geth platforms as everyone else piled through the doors behind them. "Now I'm really weirded out," Tali said, gesturing at a sign. "Why would geth need to put up signs in Khelish?"

Everyone glanced at the sign, though without pulling up a VI translation no one else could read it. It was still clear, with arrows pointing in several directions. "According to the sign, stairs are this way," EDI said, pointing down a side corridor. "The geth could have changed the signs, or even set it up as a distraction, however."

Shepard paused for a moment, staring at the sign, then finally shook her head. "We'll follow it for the moment. Stairs, that way, move out." They continued forward, taking out a group of hoppers that came popping out of the side rooms, and opening the door.

To their surprise, there was a stairwell, simple treads covered in dust and built closer to quarian size than human. "Huh," Vega said, looking over the safety railing down. "This thing looks like it runs the height of the building."

"Does that sign say roof access, maybe?" Liara said, gesturing at painted marks on the wall. When Tali nodded, she pointed up. "Three flights up, or twelve flights down. I'm in favor of up."

The stairs were just barely wide enough for them to climb, two at once, the treads high enough to make everyone but Tali take them one at a time. Somewhere below them, several flights at least, they could hear the heavy tromps of juggernauts and primes heading their direction. The roof access door was unlocked, and they stepped back out into the harsh sunlight, blinking rapidly. "Tali, seal the door. Weld if it you have to. Garrus, EDI, get those guns under our control – I don't think the Reaper will mind taking out some hacked troops if it gets us too. Everyone else?" She pointed her sniper rifle at a control box for one of the antennas, blowing the box into fragments. "Smash stuff."

Nameless pulled out the knives he still carried, using them to slice through cables and even, with a little effort, sever the supports for one antenna tower, tilting it crazily to the side. Vega had immediately swapped to his shotgun, blowing holes in the receiving dishes. "Shepard, we got the guns," Garrus said, a moment before they felt a small tremor in the building. "What was that?"

"The Reaper has exited the facility," EDI said, as it came into view, hovering some two hundred meters away, obviously sizing them up. "Opening fire."

Each corner of the building had missile launchers, similar to the Javelin launchers the Normandy used, and spaced evenly between those were smaller anti-personnel turrets. Liara was already standing on one, pulling the triggers and spitting a line of probably futile rounds at the destroyer-class Reaper. It dodged suddenly in the air, three of the four missiles sliding past it, the other leaving not much more than a scorch mark on the outside of its armor.

It landed, opening up the red eye, and everyone threw themselves to cover as it raked the roof of the building with the red beam. One of the missile launchers exploded, and Liara screamed as a piece of it slammed into her legs, pinning her. EDI calmly cycled the missiles again, and the Reaper closed the plates over its eye, again taking to the air to dodge.

Nameless was crouched at the edge of the building, a prickling sensation running up his spine. Some part of him had recognized the pattern, and he knew how to get out there to disrupt it. The problem, of course, was that it would have another shot before he could. Without hesitating, he threw himself off the roof just before the Reaper came back to the ground, opening its eye again.

He heard the chattering as two of the turrets opened up, spitting rounds the size of his finger at the synthetic monster. Somehow, he'd leapt four stories straight down, without breaking a bone, and his sprint outpaced the fastest geth unit. He heard the missiles fire again, and watched the Reaper take to the air. It had waited a fraction of a second too long this time, as an explosion enveloped one leg, leaving the armor panels cracked and melted from the blow.

He jumped off the facility, another four story drop to the arid mesa soil, leaving a dusty wake that he expected the Reaper would ignore, charging towards where he somehow _knew_ it was going to land. In the split-second before the monster touched down onto the soil, he closed into range, and both knives flashed.

The Reaper hit the ground and staggered to the side. It had favored the already damaged leg, and the sudden, unseen strike had left one of its functional feet suddenly useless, stabbing deep enough to strike bedrock. The red eye had already started opening as it lurched, trying to pull that leg free. Then Nameless slashed into another one, several power cables and communication lines, leaving a second foot non-responsive and locked in place.

Since it was primarily synthetic, with the much higher reaction time that entailed, the quarter of a second between this and the missile impact was more than enough for the Reaper to realize just how screwed it was at that particular moment. Two missiles slipped between the already-closing armor plates, their explosives amplified by the enclosed space.

Ponderously, the dead Reaper swung to one side, crashing into the ground heavily to toss Nameless off of his feet. He lay there, a dust cloud swirling around him, and started laughing. He had seen pictures of the previous him fighting a thresher maw on foot, and thought that was insanely dangerous. Now, he'd apparently taken on a Reaper, albeit a small one, in _melee combat_, and won.

Unexpectedly, his omni-tool suddenly crackled to life. "Nameless, are you alright?" Shepard asked urgently.

"I'm fine. Patch things up with the geth, I'll walk back," he responded, still laughing.

"To the geth Consensus, this is Commander Shepard. Please respond to me. I came here to free you from Reaper control," she said, obviously broadcasting on an open channel.

For several seconds, there was no response. "Shepard-Commander," Legion broadcast back, "we thank you. However, sensors indicate the Creator fleet is powering up weapons to destroy us. Our Consensus turned to the Reapers because we knew the Creators were coming to destroy us."

"All quarian vessels, this is Admiral Zorah," Tali said. "Do not fire!"

"This is Shepard. The first ship that fires on the geth _will_ be fired upon by the Normandy. Hold your fire." Nameless sat up, his good humor vanished.

"This is Admiral Xen, continue your attack run." He stood up, his spine crawling with ice up into his brain. "This is our best chance to destroy the geth for good!"

"If you attack the geth, you will die," he said suddenly, icy fury pouring through his veins.

"You can't stop this," Han'Gerral said. "We are going to finish this war, and then, with Rannoch secured, we'll help Shepard fight the geth."

"Then **_die_**," Nameless said. One strangled gasp came through the channel, followed by a heavy thud.

"Admiral Gerral is dead," a quarian said faintly. "He, he just, oh keelah!"

"You will call off your attack now, or I swear by my immortal heart I will slaughter every last one of you," he said, even as the cold prickling vanished, being replaced by confusion. How did he do that? They were not even in orbit, they were still off, halfway to the orbital track of the next planet, and somehow he reached across millions of kilometers and struck down a man with a single word.

"This is Admiral Raan, call off the attack immediately!"

"Admiral Koris, confirming that. All ships, hold position. Shepard, we will await your decision," Zaal chimed in, though he didn't seem too happy about it.

"Commander, I have a firing solution, and Xen's ship is continuing to accelerate towards the geth fleet," Joker said.

Shepard only hesitated for half a second at most. "Take the shot, Joker." Tali sobbed in the background.

Another few seconds of tense silence went by. "The _Moreh_ is disabled, Commander. Engines and main drive are offline, they are floating dead in space."

"Admiral Raan and I will send over a marine squad to seize control of the ship and place Daro'Xen in custody," Zaal said heavily.

"Good. Legion, are the geth rebooted?" Shepard demanded.

"We are. Clearance lanes are being provided for landing." Legion hesitated a moment before continuing. "Shepard-Commander, we must know how you managed to land on the surface without being detected. Even the _Normandy_ cannot remain stealthed when producing an atmospheric wake."

"Magic, Legion," she said tiredly. "Magic. Nameless, get back here. You're going to be security for a peace conference. Raan, Koris, I want both of you and a couple of senior captains to replace Gerral and Xen, here on the surface in an hour. We're going to have a peace treaty before sunset, _or else_."

"Understood, Commander," Shala responded. Nameless looked up at the wall of the facility he'd jumped off, trying to figure out how to get back inside and up to the top.


	27. Chapter 27

_Author's Note: To all my fellow Americans, happy 4th! I'm glad it's over without a neighbor setting their house on fire, bouncing bottle rockets off my car, or any injuries that I'm yet aware of. For everyone hoping to see Wrex again, he'll be there next chapter._

* * *

As it turned out, Nameless didn't have to wait long. Even as he was about to start climbing the side of the building, an open-topped aircar cruised slowly into view, settling down beside him. "Human-undesignate, we have been instructed to pilot you to your choice of destination." He stared at the basic geth platform for a moment, then climbed into the back. He wasn't entirely sure how one piloted a craft like this, but in a worst-case scenario, he could behead the platform and take his chances.

They sat there for a moment until he finally told it to head up to the rooftop where Shepard was, and they rose gracefully into the air. They landed on the far side of the roof, away from the damage, and Nameless was quickly over with the others. A trio of geth primes had already lifted the wreckage off of Liara. The asari lay still, one thigh bent at an unnatural angle. "She's still breathing, just unconscious. Nameless, I don't suppose you've managed to remember that healing spell you used to save one of Kirrahe's men?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. I don't even know how I did, well, whatever I _did_, to that quarian." He looked over at Tali. "I'm sorry about that."

"I'm not, but I wish you'd gotten Xen instead. Gerral would have stopped if you'd taken her out from here." Tali suddenly stopped to fiddle with her omni-tool. "I've managed to recover a couple more data files, in between trying to plan logistics for the dumbest decision the Admiralty ever made, and one of them does talk about that spell."

"Shepard-Commander, we have specialized medical units inbound now. May we transport T'Soni-Researcher to a care facility?" one of the primes asked.

"We're all going," Shepard said firmly. "Joker, we're moving to a geth medical facility. Track our location and meet us there. The geth might have every asari medical database, but Chakwas has experience with Liara."

"We'll be there, Commander. But since when did the geth need medical facilities?" Joker didn't sound like his usual sarcastic self when he asked insightful questions like that.

"At first, we believed the efforts of Tali'Zorah-Creator and the unit you designated Legion would come to fruition, and that the Creators would return to Rannoch," the same prime explained, while the other two moved Liara onto a stretcher with surprising gentleness, another aircar already hovering nearby to take her. "However, after the one hundred seventeenth attempt to permanently disable Legion's platform, consensus was reached that the quarians were stalling the process and did not attempt peace."

"What?" Tali shrieked. "How could, who did, why didn't he come to me?" she spluttered, jabbing a furious finger towards the prime. "Keelah, I would have helped stop them!"

"The geth of unit Legion decided not to involve you to preserve your place in the quarian hierarchy," it responded evenly, opening the doors to another aircar. "Please board, and we will be at the medical facility in approximately ten human minutes."

"We have different minutes?" Vega muttered as he jumped inside.

"You've never had to take xeno studies," Garrus complained. "Compared to a turian second, a human one is point nine seven as long. Then asari ones are about one point four turian seconds, volus clocks run on seconds that are about point three five turian seconds, elcor ones run long at about two point one." Garrus broke off, his mandibles spreading slightly in a grin. "Why do you think everyone uses VI translation software? The math involved in just saying, 'Let's meet for lunch in an hour,' would have the galaxy feuding in no time."

"And that's why he's the best calibrator around," Tali said quietly. "He can do math almost as fast as a quarian."

"Almost? Tali, I'm hurt," Garrus teased, pressing one hand dramatically to his chest.

"Commander, I do not understand," EDI broke in, sounding almost plaintive. "Why is everyone making humorous statements and talking about trivialities, instead of focusing on the upcoming peace plan, or Liara's injuries?"

"It's a coping thing, EDI," Vega said. "We can't change the peace talks, that's all Lola. We can't help Liara, that's up to Chakwas, or maybe Nameless." The marine glanced over at the immortal, currently lost in listening to the newest audio files. "But we need something to do other than sit here and focus on exactly what we can't do to help."

"I see. You are placing trivialities in priority to take up processing cycles and reduce logic loops." EDI leaned back in her seat, satisfied.

Shepard, having watched the whole byplay, glanced at Vega with a smirk. "So, you think you don't need to help with the peace talks?"

"Nah, you don't need us. You'll walk into the room, dictate the terms to the quarians and the geth, and if anyone objects, you'll have Tats rip their spleen out through their noise using only his voice." Vega paused, brows knitting. "Or, yanno, whatever the electronic equivalent of a spleen is. Do geth even have noses?" Tali's head was bowed, both hands pressed against her faceplate, while Garrus just shook his head.

* * *

Two hours later, Liara was sedated in the Normandy's med bay, while various nanites worked to reconstructed the shattered bone and remove infection from her bloodstream. In the meeting room one deck up, the three quarian admirals and their two new stand-ins stood mostly belligerently on the opposite side from Shepard, Nameless, and Legion.

"You really want to do this now?" Shepard demanded angrily.

Tali sighed, leaning back against the window. "As much as I don't like Admiral Koris, he does have a point. We've been letting the Council push us around for the last three centuries. As well meaning as you are, you're trying to bully us into accepting this."

"Then what do you suggest?" Nameless asked, before Shepard could vent her fury by shouting some more. "Everyone wants peace, or at least claims to. The proposal Shepard laid out is as fair and balanced as anyone's going to get."

Tali turned to look squarely at Zaal and Captain Ren'Anyld, the hurried replacement for Han'Gerral. "Rannoch is _our home_."

"It is also our home, Ren'Anyld-Creator," Legion said. "We were created there. We wish to live in peace."

Ren scoffed, but quietly as Nameless leaned on the table. "There's not even twenty million quarians alive today. From what I understand, there's entire _cities_ with larger populations than your entire species. You cannot settle an entire planet with that few people. Even if you wanted to." He grinned suddenly, looking over at Legion. "Besides, think of what you're getting out of the deal."

Both Legion and most of the quarians gave him expressions of confusion. "The quarians and the geth are fairly well acknowledged as the technical geniuses of the galaxy. Well, after the Reapers, I suppose. Imagine what you could accomplish if you collaborate." It was somewhat ironic that the person who'd respond best to that argument was sitting in the brig of the _Kwib Kwib_, but he'd try it anyway.

"Do you need me to show you what's happening right now on Earth and Palaven?" Shepard said quietly. "The Reapers are killing twenty million people _a day_ on each of those planets. Some of them are turned into husks. Some of them are melted down into goo to help them build more Reapers. Some of them are just dead, of injury or starvation or disease. I can't promise you'll survive if you work together. But I can be damn sure, you _will_ die if you don't." She looked around the room, staring each quarian in the eyes. "Decide. Now, please, because I am trying to save the galaxy, and I don't have any more time to waste on stupid pissing contests."

"Consensus has been reached, Shepard-Commander," Legion said immediately. "We will abide by your proposal."

Tali glanced at her fellow Admirals. "Shepard, can we have a minute?" For a tense second, no one moved, then Shepard jerked her head towards the door and walked out. Nameless and Legion followed her.

The sliding door to the meeting room closed, but the arguing voices of the quarians was almost audible despite that. "What do you think?" Shepard asked.

Nameless glanced down at her, then went back to staring at the suited aliens. "I think, if it was just up to Tali or Koris, it'd be a yes. Raan's willing to be convinced, but she's leader for too many people who still tell their children to be good or the geth will come and kill them in their sleep, or something." Shepard snorted a laugh, and Legion's faceplates shifted to an expression of disapproval. "That Anyld guy wants to have a war, despite everything he's seen. Nothing can be said to convince him that the geth aren't out to kill the entire quarian species."

They watched for a moment, shouts and wild gesticulating gestures and holograms waved around too fast to read, the orderly chaos of a family dispute. "I notice you didn't say anything about Captain Zor'Terah." The replacement for Daro'Xen was still the quietest among them, and aside from introducing herself, hadn't said one word the entire meeting.

Suddenly, that quiet one summoned a combat drone, which hovered over the table, crackling ominously with electricity. The other four quarians leaped back, raising their personal shields and readying attacks of their own, when Zor started pacing around the meeting room table, talking quickly, intensely, and too quiet for anyone except EDI to understand. "Shepard-Commander, we now estimate a ninety three percent chance the quarians will accept your proposal."

She looked over at the geth and raised an eyebrow. "What was it before?"

"Fifty seven percent." Shepard grinned. "We do not understand why this brings you amusement."

"I'd already figured it was about a fifty-fifty chance." She patted him on the shoulder. "Nameless, go listen to the rest of those entries. Give Legion a copy of the files too, maybe he can help Tali reconstruct them." Zor had turned towards the door and tugged on the handle, only to find it was locked. "Oh yeah, EDI, you can let them out now."

Stumbling as the door suddenly jerked open, Captain Zor'Terah straightened. "Captain Shepard, we will accept your proposal, but with some small changes." Shepard was already frowning. "Item one, the geth cannot build or keep any ships of dreadnought class or larger anywhere in the system. Item two, quarians will have settlement rights anywhere on Rannoch, with approval of the Captain's Council. And item three, once this whole thing with the Reapers has been dealt with, any quarian going on pilgrimage must be accompanied by a geth platform like that one." She pointed at Legion, who appeared surprised.

"Alright, the first two I understand. But why the third one?" Shepard asked.

"Primes are too big, and regular platforms are too dumb," Zor explained.

"That's not what Shepard meant," Tali teased lightly. "I'm insisting, Shepard. The only way we'll ever be able to get along is if we can work together. The easiest way to do that is to make everyone start young. And given what I've seen Legion do, and how he acts, maybe it'll help the geth to understand us better, too."

Shepard looked at Legion, who, after a point four seven second pause, nodded. "The Consensus agrees with Tali'Zorah-Creator's proposal. In addition, we have runtimes volunteering to help the Creators acclimate to Rannoch. If we upload into their suits, we can stimulate their immune system responses."

Ran'Anyld and Shala'Raan both shuddered at the thought. "I think that's something we'll have to ask for volunteers for," Zaal'Koris said. Straightening to attention, he saluted Shepard. "Now that everything's been decided, I think we all need to be getting back to our ships. I'm not sure how we'll decide it, but we'll be sending some technicians to help with that Crucible project."

"We will also be sending a squadron of primes," Legion said. "They can serve as mobile data support and physical security."

"I'll let Admiral Hackett know you're coming. Hopefully he can keep any of the technicians from shooting either one of you," Shepard said.

"There is one other thing, Shepard," Zaal said. "I know your path fighting the Reapers has been a difficult one. But I'm glad to say that you've always had a quarian by your side to help you, and I'd hate to break that streak now. I'd like to assign Tali'Zorah to your ship. We'll call her an interim ambassador, or something."

"Are you sure you don't want to go yourself, Zaal?" Shala teased him.

"War is a game for the young, unless you're a krogan," he said testily.

Shepard nodded. "I'd be happy to have Tali aboard the _Normandy_ again, and now I don't have to ask you for her. I need her technical expertise."

"I don't mean to pry, but why do you need Tali'Zorah specifically?" Zor'Terah asked quietly.

"Have you seen the footage of the destruction of Sovereign?" Nameless responded, causing the quarian to nod. "I did that, sort of. I have, a sort of, memory problem. I had recorded a series of diary entries, to help me remember, but the omni-tool with them was badly damaged. Tali has been reconstructing them for me."

"There are others, quarians whose specialty is data recovery. I mean no disrespect to my Admiral, but while she is certainly capable, it is not her area of expertise." Zor stared up at Nameless unflinchingly, eyes glowing softly behind her faceplate.

"Perhaps, but Tali has one thing these others do not: my trust." Zor bowed her head respectfully at this. "But speaking of that, I hope Tali can accept some help from Legion?"

"I should have known that was coming," Tali grumbled.

"You wanted to set an example, didn't you?" Shala teased her. "Thank you for your hospitality, Captain Shepard. Hopefully, the next time we meet, it will be under more pleasant circumstances." She also saluted gravely, and led the other three quarians out of the meeting room.

"Any ideas of where to start, Legion?" Tali asked dryly. "I'm sure you've already hacked into my files to see my work patterns."

"Incorrect. We judged that given our previous history, such action would be taken as a breach of trust. We do estimate it will take approximately fifteen point four seconds for us to do so, if you wish us to try."

Silence ruled the room for a moment. "Tali, I think Legion's just challenged you to a duel," Shepard chuckled. "I'll be in the CIC if you need me."

She left, Nameless following her, as Tali started swearing in Khelish and furiously tapping at her omni-tool. "Take that, bosh'tet!" was heard as the door to the security room closed.

"Everything okay in there, ma'am?" Private Campbell asked nervously.

"Legion and Tali are just renewing their acquaintance," Shepard said. "Interrupt if you hear gunfire."

Campbell seemed unsure if that was meant to be serious or not, but didn't ask anything else as Shepard and Nameless stepped out into the main room. "Traynor, any news from Earth, Palaven, or Tuchanka?"

"Nothing new except an ever higher death toll," the specialist said quietly.

"Alright. Let's head to Tuchanka. It's time to get Wrex into the fight."


	28. Chapter 28

_Author's Note: Sorry for the brief hiatus. Apparently, my muse decided to go on vacation when I did. Anyway, this chapter has some epic Wrex, the reappearance of Mordin and Kirrahe, and ends on a pseudo-cliffhanger. As always, I love reviews!_

* * *

Nameless stared down at the flap of skin in his hands, his gaze tracing along the lines of the tattoo as tiny runnels of blood slowly traced their way down his arm. It took Vega four times calling his name to finally break through his reverie. "Geez, Tats, you fall in or something?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pressed the tattoo back against his arm, the flesh adhering and the blood slowly being absorbed back into his skin. "Or something. The audio files Tali has been providing are bringing back more memories, and it's easy to get lost in them."

Vega chuckled. "Don't get too lost. We'll be in Tuchanka orbit in ten minutes, but the whole place is full of those smaller Reapers." He crossed his arms, watching the immortal rise. "Obviously you got a lot of tats – hell, I think some of them are layered. What's so special about that one?"

The smile fell off Nameless face, his mind's eye still full of Deionarra's furious ghostly face, hovering there in the Fortress of Regrets. "Torment," he said curtly, stalking towards the elevator.

"Torment?" Vega asked, brows furrowed as he ambled along behind. "Why would you get something like that tattooed?"

"It's a reminder of what you've experienced and lost," Liara said, chiming in as they stopped to wait for the elevator. "A tactile recording of the emotional toll that life has taken on you. Don't you have anything like that, Vega?"

The burly marine grinned. "Nah, unless you count losing at cards a little too often." The three of them stepped into the elevator, descending to the shuttle bay. "What, you got one too?"

Liara just held up her hand, showing the small tattoo of the symbol on the base of her palm. Frowning, Nameless grabbed her hand, placing a fingertip over the purple ink before suddenly relaxing. "You had this done yourself?"

She smiled, pulling her hand free. "It may not have the mystical properties of your own, but I found that it did actually help ease my mind. Since you never actually gave me one, I had it done after the destruction of the Normandy."

Vega shook his head again. "I think I have enough tats that I don't need to get a matching one. Unless it's a whole squad thing, then I can find room for it somewhere." The doors opened, and they joined Shepard by the shuttle. "So, what now? We taking another Reaper on foot?"

"Goddess, I hope not," Liara muttered. "If we are, I'm trading places with Garrus."

"We're here to find Wrex, as well as stopping some Cerberus troops the turians tracked here." Shepard opened the shuttle, moving to a seat while they waited for Cortez to run the pre-flight checklist. "Wrex first, but Garrus is trying to track what Cerberus is up to while we're there."

Other than some sudden maneuvers to dodge missiles fired from the surface, the shuttle ride passed uneventfully, and they set down in the underground facility in Urdnot territory. The scarred battlemaster was waiting for the shuttle, striding forward before the doors had finished opening. "Shepard! It's good to see you again. Got some old buddies of yours waiting inside." One hand grabbed Shepard, shaking firmly, while the other still held a ready shotgun.

"Wrex. Which old friends might those be?" Shepard looked around, blinking in surprise at a pair of salarians standing further back near the entrance.

"Shepard. Good to see you again," Mordin said. Next to him, Major Kirrahe nodded respectfully to both Shepard and Nameless. "Should have expected this."

"Mordin and Kirrahe? What the heck are you two doing here?" Shepard inquired, stepping over to shake both of their hands, a brilliant smile spreading across her face.

"Cerberus attacked us on Sur'Kesh, trying to kill off the handful of krogan females who survived Maelon's experiments," Kirrahe explained. "Thanks to Mordin and myself, we got most of them out safe in the confusion."

"That's right. Four females, completely fertile, and one of them a shaman!" Wrex gloated, his own mouth spread in a grin. "Not to mention the salarian mage squad."

Nameless frowned, mentally flipping through his still spotty memory. "I don't remember training any salarians."

"You didn't. We acquired copies of the spells Conrad Verner has been working on, and studied them ourselves in the STG. Those who showed aptitude started a special training program." Kirrahe raised one hand, magical green light suffusing it. "We even recreated the spell you used on our first meeting. It proved most effective in keeping the krogan alive during our escape."

"You needed to heal krogan?" Vega butted in.

"Immune systems compromised. Suffering from fever, frailty, organ impairment. Transfer symptoms to STG, disease hits radically different physiology and fails." Mordin nodded. "Effective."

"That's good to hear, Wrex, but then what do you need from me? I need krogan troops to help on Palaven and Earth, stopping the husks long enough for the turian and human forces to gather and counterattack." Shepard stared down the krogan, who shifted slightly as he finally put away his shotgun.

"Mordin finished developing a cure for the genophage. But we can't distribute it because there's one of those damned Reapers sitting practically on top of the building maintaining the Shroud." He grinned. "That's where you come in."

One hand slowly raised to her face. "Naturally, because I'm the only person capable of destroying a Reaper," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"Not the only one, but the best. That's why you're in my krannt," Wrex boasted.

"I think you are in Shepard's krannt," Liara said, smiling sweetly when Wrex turned to glare at her. "And on that note, I'm calling Garrus. He can take down a Reaper on foot again. The last one almost killed me."

"You took down a Reaper? On foot?" an astonished Kirrahe blurted out.

"Technically, we were on a building, with missile launchers and turrets and crap," Vega said. "Only one who actually went mano-a-mano was Tats here."

Every krogan in the room turned to stare at Nameless. "You took on a Reaper in hand to hand combat?" Wrex asked slowly.

"Uh, not exactly. I stabbed it in the foot to distract it so the missiles could actually do some damage," he protested.

The entire room was silent. "Right. Shepard, let's go hit the bar. Just toss Nameless in the general direction of the Reaper." Wrex clapped the scowling immortal on one shoulder. "Just kidding."

They spent the next hour planning, studying old maps, blurry shots of the area taken from orbit, and listening to the female shaman recounting the abridged history of the place. The Shroud tower was actually the last remaining installation of a climate control system, but it was ideal for distributing the cure, mainly because it was only fifty kilometers away from Urdnot headquarters. The limited dispersal would ensure Urdnot and the four nearest clans would reap the benefit.

"So, let me see if I've got this right," Nameless finally said, leaning back in his chair. "The Reaper set up near the Shroud building, probably to spread bioweapons into the atmosphere. The building is in a pre-uplift temple dedicated to the god of the thresher maws. We can't approach by air because it's on a hilltop with good firing angles. We can't approach underground because thresher maws. Our only option is to drive at it in krogan trucks, then get out and take it down with sidearms and harsh language."

"Pretty much," Wrex said, nodding.

"You could always try praying to Kalros," the shaman added. "She might hear your prayers."

"By ringing the giant dinner bells, assuming they still work," Shepard said thoughtfully. "Let's save that for a last resort."

"Come on, Shepard. I thought you had balls of steel," Wrex teased her.

"How are we going to take it down? We don't have a handy quartet of Javelin missile launchers, do we?" Nameless asked, glancing around. Three of the krogan promptly put their heads together, arguing heatedly over available weapons.

"We can't bring the Normandy down. The stealth system is still working, but they can track the atmospheric wake. We might be able to get some shots off if we can get it to take off," Shepard said.

"Still leaves four other Reapers present on planet. Will swap guard duties." Mordin shook his head. "Need to take it out and distribute cure before replacement can arrive."

"Well?" Wrex demanded of his engineers. They paused, and two of them shoved the third one forward.

"We have the helix gun fixed," he said, and Wrex's face erupted in a scowl.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but what's the helix gun?" Garrus asked.

Kirrahe, covering his eyes with one hand, explained while Wrex was still spluttering for words. "You know how chemically propelled weapons used rifling to make them more accurate?"

"Sure, the rotational force keeps the trajectory straighter. They do it when they're ice mining comets for terraforming, too." The turian was obviously still confused.

"They decided to try setting up a rifled mass effect weapon, large enough to be the main gun on a turian cruiser." Garrus' jaw dropped, Shepard paled, and Nameless was just confused.

"Is that supposed to be really big?" the immortal asked.

"It's two hundred meters long, and fires off hundred kilo bullets at around point one percent of lightspeed," Kirrahe explained.

"The shockwave from the weapon firing killed twenty krogan and cracked the housing," Wrex growled.

"It did kill that Reaper," the engineer said, only flinching a little under the battlemaster's glare.

"Fine. Set it up." Shepard remained calm as Wrex glared at her. "Unless you have a better idea?"

"It's not like you can headbutt the puto to death," Vega muttered under his breath.

* * *

"Shepard?" Garrus shouted over the rumbling of the vehicles.

"What?"

"This is a really dumb idea!" He lurched sideways despite his death grip on a handy ceiling strut.

"I don't have any better ones!" She glared at him, and the turian looked away first.

"How about we throw your hamster at its eye and hope he's secretly the terror of the Terminus Systems?" Vega shouted, hoping to lighten the mood.

"You leave Mr. Cuddles out of this!" Her glare switched targets, making Garrus breathe a sigh of relief as Vega grinned and lifted one hand in surrender, the other holding a matching strut on his side of the tonkah.

"Are they always like this?" Wrex asked.

"It beats the racist joke competition between Garrus and Joker," she shouted, bouncing completely off her seat for a moment. "Haven't you heard of suspension?"

"This is still better than the Mako," Wrex replied, glancing out the window. "We're almost there!"

Whatever Shepard said was completely lost as their vehicle went completely into the air, rolling over to the left to land shuddering on all wheels again. "What the hell was that?" Nameless shouted as they lurched forward again.

"Kalros just devoured the first vehicle in the convoy!" their driver shouted. Nameless fought for a glimpse of the outside as they shot over the crumbled remains of an unknown building, seeing briefly a massive shape almost as big around as the Normandy sliding back into the ground.

They swerved recklessly, the entire convoy scattering to try and divide the attention of the massive thresher maw. The outrider vehicles, carrying only a driver and two gunners, were the most active, purposefully going for ramps and rough terrain, trying to make enough noise to draw Kalros away from the more important vehicles in the middle.

The helix cannon wasn't coming by vehicle; instead, several turian fighters were being pressed into service to lift it to the nearest building with a line of sight on the Reaper. The hope was that it would be too distracted by the swarm of krogan charging it to notice the cannon until it could be lined up to fire. Even then, the backlash would probably destroy the building it was resting on, and possibly the gun itself.

The temple to Kalros was in sight now, massive walls of stone and rusted steel, the only approach that blocked the Reaper's line of sight. As the truck slid to a halt, brushing up against a weather worn statue, they all quickly stumbled out of the tonkah. Shepard was surprised to see that only three vehicles hadn't made it, and at least one of them was still rumbling around somewhere out of sight. "Ready for this, Wrex?"

"You know it, Shepard." He jacked the pump-action on his shotgun, a gesture that had no actual effect on the weapon beyond the satisfactory sound it made. "Let's rip off his quad."

Thirty krogan, seven salarians, Garrus, Vega, Shepard, and Nameless, moved forward through the temple. Husks were beginning to crawl out of the woodwork, and it was their first opportunity to see the salarian mage squad in action. All of them had omni-tools at the ready, along with their pistols. They fired, moving from cover to cover, looking for targets the krogan couldn't shoot. Then, with a judicious word and a wave of their hands, finger-sized bursts of light would go zipping away, curving around cover and bypassing opponents, passing through shields without a splash and battering their targets. Kirrahe stood as a pair of scions lumbered around a corner, shouting something in salarian, and a blast of sound and force poured forth, catching every piece of gravel and shard of crumbled steel, engulfing them in a sandblaster-like wave of debris.

They broke free into the open space before the Shroud, the Reaper hunkered down in front of it, still as tall as the building. Even as everyone opened fire, the armor guarding the red eye opened, and it started glowing. "Everyone scatter!" Shepard shouted, ducking to the left to put one of the obelisks between her and it.

With the massive **_BWOOM_** sound, it fired, turning seven krogan instantly to ash. The salarians were knocked sideways, several of them hastily rolling in the dirt to extinguish suits that had caught fire from the blast wave. But the krogan simply continued to charge, firing wildly at the Reaper as they did. Part of Nameless found the effort useless, as their small caliber weapons couldn't possibly have an effect on shields strong enough to shrug off capitol weapons. Then again, it's not like they were going to miss.

He darted forward, leaping and tumbling from cover to cover as the weapon recharged. If he could get close enough, maybe he could do what he did before, cripple it to give the helix gun a clear shot at it. It seemed to be looking off to the side, tracking a krogan with a grenade launcher, so he darted for a piece of falling statuary.

There was light, pain, and dizzying confusion. After a few seconds, he pieced his mind back together enough to realize where he was, and who he was. Wait, no he still wasn't quite clear on who he was, but that was sort of a long-term worry. He tried to sit up, and then looked down his body.

Which currently ended somewhere just below his belly button in a set of horrific cauterized wounds. His mind was numb and fuzzy, the sounds of combat distant and tinny. Another brilliant bolt of scarlet passed by over his head, and he gasped at the sudden heat suffusing the air. _I've been shot by a Reaper_, he thought, still a little numbly.

Grasping the fallen statue, he pulled himself somewhat upright. The pain from grinding his burns into the dirt was … surprisingly, not all that _more_ painful, just _differently_ painful. Glancing over the top, he could see Shepard, crouched over Vega, doing some form of first aid as his feet kicked in agony at the dirt. Garrus was picking off the husks trying to flank them, while Wrex continued to hurl epithets and shotgun fire up at the Reaper.

"You bastard son of an orc," Nameless growled, "may the Lady of Pain curse you to oblivion!" The hand not desperately clutching the statue was flung forward, and a half dozen head-sized balls of electricity shot out, dancing erratically through the air, piercing the Reaper's shields. Purple-pink arcs of lightning danced along its body, causing the legs to dance and twitch as everyone still standing continued to pour weapon fire into the shields.

The electricity halted, and it settled its feet, stepping forward as the beam weapon charged up. A vicious crack echoed through the air, shattering eardrums and shorting out audio pickups in all the helmets. A whirlwind of dust blew across the open arena, finally settling enough to reveal the results of the helix cannon.

The Reaper still stood, the shot having dealt a painful but glancing blow. Half of the rear of the machine had been stripped away, and even the armor on the front side was cracked and crazed. The beam weapon had fired right as it was struck, carving across the temple in a crazy jerking motion, bringing tons of rock and steel down on the attackers. As Nameless looked around, he could see no sign of anyone else moving, and the toppled masonry and obelisks now even shielded the lower half of the Reaper from sight. _Though if Shepard had a Mako, she could drive right up to the top of the damn thing_, he thought crazily.

Even as he struggled to find another spell within him, the armor plates started to pull away to fire again, only to grind to a halt. "You obstinate machine," Wrex shouted, pulling himself out of the pile of rubble. "You are nothing but a scrap heap waiting to be made! This is Tuchanka!" He started forward, limping at first, then walking as his formidable regeneration kicked in. "This is my homeworld! We've done worse to it than you can even imagine!"

The battlemaster started running now, his shotgun lost somewhere in the collapse. "I am Urdnot Wrex! I am of the krannt of Shepard! I slew Saren Arterius! I stopped Sovereign! I will not be stopped by a petty little toy like you!" He was sprinting now, his bellow echoing through the arena, the other krogan working to dig themselves out. "Do you know why? Because _I! AM! __**KROGAN!**_"

The Reaper had been moving, obviously preparing to swat him or step on him, and it did intend to do just that. But as he reached the edge of the destruction, the sigil of Torment, still emblazoned across his bony forehead, glowed with sickly lavender light. He leaped right past the leg poised to kill him, a prodigious jump thirty meters in the air, and head-butted the Reaper right in the armor plates guarding its eye.

As it had with Sovereign, the symbol was suddenly writ large across the Reaper, a hundred meters tall, purple light searing through its armor and into the machine below. As Wrex fell heavily to the ground, panting in exhaustion, it toppled over sideways, the red light already dimming.

"Anyone still alive out there?" Kirrahe's voice came through Nameless' omni-tool. "We need to be dug out before this shield collapses, or we'll never get this cure in there."

The immortal glanced down, trying to mentally track his regeneration. He had at least regrown an inch or two of flesh below his navel, and the cauterized flesh was gone. "I would, but I seem to have misplaced my legs." Kirrahe said something else, but his own exhaustion snuck up and clubbed him over the head.


	29. Chapter 29

_Author's Note: Torment hit 100 Follows yesterday, so I'm utterly stoked about that. This chapter has some heavy conversation, some light conversation, and Morte hovering like a worried boyfriend. More action next chapter, where I'm sure everyone can guess what's going to happen._

* * *

When he next opened his eyes, it was to the artificial lighting of the Normandy's med bay. He glanced around carefully, minimizing his movements until he could be sure he wouldn't be disturbing any of the other patients. Garrus and Vega both lay in their own beds, and Chakwas was not quite snoring at her desk, hair drooping over her face.

His legs had regrown down to the knees, all but the very bottom already restored to its previous scarred, tattooed state. He couldn't walk out, not yet, but he could at least sit up, so he did, carefully stretching and listening to the quiet creak of his own skin. "So you're awake." The deep voice, coming from the shadowed corner next to the AI Core door, evoked an unintentional flinch, one arm glowing with magical power before he caught himself. "Heh. Didn't think I could scare you."

He shrugged, scooting himself to the foot of the bed and wedging one knee under the railing. "I can be startled. What are you doing here, Wrex? Shouldn't you be down there protecting your people?"

"Don't need to. The other Reapers ran for their miserable synthetic lives. Shepard is down there with Liara and Tali, taking out some Cerberus goons trying to set off a nuke next to a fault line." He moved quietly around the bed with practiced ease, displaying stealth quite uncharacteristic of a krogan. "So. You going to tell me what this is really about?" One finger tapped the base of the tattoo on his forehead.

"It really does stand for Torment, that much I've remembered," he replied, clasping his hands in his lap. "A physical and magical manifestation of the hurt and agony you have experienced."

"So why'd you give it to me?" Wrex asked. "I'm one of the oldest krogan around. There's maybe two dozen others who were alive for the original distribution of the genophage. I've seen a hell of a lot."

"I honestly have no idea, though I can guess it seemed like a good idea at the time." He smiled faintly, staring down at his fingers. "Not all of my memories have come back, but," he trailed off for a moment, "that makes it what, a thousand years for you?"

"Closer to fourteen hundred, but who's counting," Wrex replied dourly.

Nameless nodded, his gaze still locked. "I can't be certain, but I think I lost my mortality around three thousand years ago."

"Well, damn. Even krogan don't live that long, and we're potentially the longest lived species in space." The krogan leaned against the empty bed opposite him, crossing his arms. "You figure out why you did it?"

"Specifically, no, but I did something truly, horrifically evil. I knew what would happen to my soul if I could not do enough good to balance it, only it didn't go as planned." He drew in a deep breath, and for a moment, it seemed as though the light in the room was being sucked in along with it, before he sighed. "I ended up much like you've seen me. Staggering cluelessly from personality to personality, haunted by the shadows of my past, and almost every single one has made things worse, rather than better."

"How'd you do something so bad? What, did you condemn a species to extinction?" Black eyes glittered as they watched the immortal, who looked up for the first time.

"If what I did was a ten, then the genophage is around a three, and the creation of the Reapers would be a nine." His declaration lay heavy on the air, and Nameless looked down at his hands once again.

"Spirits, what could be more evil than creating the Reapers?" Garrus rasped out from his bed.

Wrex looked over, nodding respectfully, but Nameless gave no recognition beyond slowly answering the question. "Without my memories back, I cannot be certain. But I believe that I shattered the very foundations of my universe. It fits the evidence I do have. I travelled more portals in Sigil than anyone else – because I was instrumental in their construction? Almost no one has ever escaped the Lady of Pain, but I did so at least twice. I set foot on every plane in existence, even if I did not know why I did so. I cannot think of anything else so great that would make me need the rest of eternity to atone for it."

"As much fun as this slumber party chat is," Vega groaned, "can you chatterboxes take it somewhere else? Some of us need our sleep."

That caused Nameless to look over next to him, where the burly marine was trying in vain to pull the sheet up over his head. "Sure, I'll just stroll out of here on my knees," he replied acerbically.

"I'm sure you can, Tats. Toss me your pillow on your way out," he mumbled back.

Chortling, Wrex moved over next to the bed. "Climb up, I'll carry you out to the mess hall, at least," he offered, and after a moment's hesitation, Nameless did, gripping tightly to the krogan hump. Chakwas lifted her head, dazedly brushing hair back behind her ear, before apparently deciding it was a bizarre dream and going back to sleep.

The _Normandy_ was quiet, with the feeling of sleep rather than desertion. Half the lights were off, but after a moment EDI's body came down the elevator and joined them. "It is almost time for Reveille," she said, folding into a seat nearby. "Your conversation in the medical bay was intriguing."

"Spying on us?" Wrex asked, curious rather than angry.

"I have been monitoring all the injured crew to facilitate Doctor Chakwas' treatment of you," she explained. "When I discovered Nameless was awake, I listened in to see if you were discussing the mission." She turned to face Nameless more fully. "May I ask why you were required to atone? My study of organics and their belief systems shows that while many talk about redemption, atonement, and good deeds, few of those who claim to follow these belief systems actually act upon any stricture that requires them to set aside naked self-interest."

He blinked several times, processing her words until they made mostly sense. "Why don't people here try to avoid their version of hell, do you mean?" She nodded, the soft whirr of the servos much louder in the empty mess. "How many of them have seen hell? Been there? I've been to nine. How many of them have seen heaven? I've visited all three, though not terribly welcomed in any of them.

"For me, it isn't a matter of belief, but knowledge. I've _been there_." His hands creaked ominously where he gripped the table, and he carefully released his grip to examine it for damage.

"He saved me from one," Morte said, floating out from Liara's room. "I don't think Tali's found that particular journal entry, has she? I was a real scumbag before I died. I knew there was a real hell there, but I managed to delude myself that nothing I did was _that _bad, and I'd make it up before I died somehow. Only, then I didn't." He bobbed over to hover above the table between EDI and Nameless. "I know that Nameless didn't save me for noble reasons, and some of the ones since then have been downright psychotic. But he still saved me."

EDI considered this, while Wrex seemed content to just sit and listen and watch the byplay. "What form, then, did your torment take?"

"He was bound into the Pillar of Skulls," Nameless said, memory rushing over him. "A pillar as tall as the sky, wider around than a skyscraper on Illium, made up of the souls of those who cheated and lied their way to power and wealth. Souls bound into the form of a skull. All their knowledge, poured together into the pillar. Only the most powerful and determined can maintain their personality at all, the rest quickly subsumed into the greater mass."

Morte was actually trembling by the time Nameless finished talking. "From what Shepard said about the Collectors, that sounds an awful lot like what being a Reaper must be like," Wrex muttered.

"There is an important difference," Nameless said after a moment of silence. "All of those souls, they **know** that they **deserve** their fate. While they are bound to the pillar, they can **feel** the harm they caused to others, and only one thing can stop that pain."

Morte and Nameless spoke the word simultaneously, though the skull's was a faint whisper. "Regret." They locked gazes, and the immortal lowered his eyes, allowing Morte to continue. "True regret, not the kind of, 'Damn, I wish they hadn't caught me,' or, 'This didn't turn out how I wanted,' but genuine, heartfelt, 'By the gods what have I done?' And that has its own kind of pain." He dipped so low he almost rested on the table, eyes appearing on the verge of tears.

"That pain is what bound him to me, originally," Nameless said. "All of my other companions had lives of pain and misery too, but Morte had already been with 'me' for lifetimes before I found my mortality and ended it."

"Hold it," Wrex said. "Actually, two things. First, if you ended it, why the hell are you still here? Second, does this mean I'm going to be bound to you too?"

The immortal chuckled. "I don't think so. Urdnot Wrex does not strike me as anyone's follower. Companion, maybe, but at some point, I will reach a point where even Morte may not be able to go with me."

"Damn straight," Wrex muttered. "I'm surprised you haven't asked how the rest of the mission went."

"Why? We obviously succeeded, or I wouldn't have woken back up on the ship," Nameless said.

"Good thing you have friends to bring you back," Morte said. "Just like old times, eh, chief?"

"If it was old times, you'd be floating along behind me, insulting my enemies before biting them in the posterior." Nameless held out a fist, and Morte thunked his forehead against it.

"Maybe, but I like the life of a data assistant better. The company is hotter and the work has fewer people shooting at me. Besides, husks don't respond to insults, the berks," he lamented.

They glanced up as the morning announcement wake-up call came over the speakers. "This was very knowledgeable. Thank you," EDI said, rising from her seat. "I am going to help Jeff get ready for his shift."

"You know what's next?" Wrex asked.

"Not exactly, but now that we've scared the Reapers away from Tuchanka, I expect we'll be heading back to the Citadel to find out what the next hot spot is," Nameless said. "I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who can kill a Reaper, but I imagine it'd be a little difficult for you to do that in orbit."

"Anyone who suggests launching me out a missile pod can go first," the krogan growled. "But I'm damn sure going to make them pay."

"And make the Council feel guilty over how they've treated the krogan, now that you're pulling their asses out of the fire?" His grin was surpassed by the wide smile of his companion.

"Damn straight. Tali would call them a bunch of bosh'tets, now that all the races like us are saving their bacon." Wrex stood up, nodding politely. "Nameless."

"Wrex," he replied, wondering if everyone's conversations with the clan leader had the same feeling of surrealism. He had just spent half an hour talking about the afterlife mixed with what they were doing tomorrow.

People were making noise, moving between the bathrooms and the crew quarters, stumbling through the mess deck for food, and he simply sat and watched them. Liara and Shepard suddenly appeared, the asari limping slightly. "Liara! What happened to you?" Morte exclaimed, zipping right past Copeland.

"It's nothing, Morte. Just a sprained ankle," Liara tried to defuse it hurriedly.

"She jumped four meters off a ledge and landed on a Cerberus trooper about to ventilate Tali," Shepard said, "and I just want to make sure it is just a sprain and not a cracked bone."

"Shepard, if it was a broken bone, it would hurt more," Liara responded peevishly.

The commander responded by lightly kicking her in the ankle, causing the asari to turn pale and clench her teeth. "Like that?"

They made it into the medical bay, awakening Chakwas from the way she popped up from the desk, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Shifting in his seat, he glanced down to find he'd regenerated another three inches of leg, and quickly calculated his healing rate. _So, as long as we don't get to the Citadel for six or seven more hours, I should be able to walk off._ But for the meantime, he enjoyed the quiet at the eye of the storm that was the _Normandy_.


	30. Chapter 30

_Author's Note: Everyone wishes they could do this to that bastard, right?_

* * *

When they exited the Widow relay, Nameless watched the dust cloud of the nebula streak by, standing on feet that still felt raw and unfinished. It was bizarre actually feeling the deck beneath his feet, the individual grooves and bumps molded in for safety without the numbing scar tissue in the way. He turned at the metallic thumping of feet. "Nameless-Immortal. We have data that may prove beneficial to you," Legion said, extending a data disc.

"Oh, you and Tali managed to restore some more audio logs?" He took the disc, slotting it into his omni-tool.

"Negative. Since you have proven capable of utilizing magic once again, we have accessed all records from Alliance and STG mage training programs. That is your new spellbook." The geth twitched its face in that utterly random way, and stepped up next to the view with him. "We have a question about magic for you," it said.

Nameless blinked, examining the synthetic next to him. Automatons were nothing new to him, they were rare but not unheard of in Sigil. Outside of the modrons, he'd never heard of a group of automatons that could build more of themselves. "I'm not sure if I can answer, but I'll try," he said.

"We have experimented with magic. Certain platforms, with specific runtimes uploaded, are capable of casting many of the spells so far recorded. However, those same runtimes on a different platform are incapable of utilizing spells, as are uploading different runtimes to the same platform." It seemed to be watching the view, but somehow Nameless doubted that was where the majority of its attention was.

"I only followed part of that," he admitted. "You can switch, um, personalities between geth?"

Legion's head tilted slightly to the side before it nodded. "That is an adequate comparison. Yes."

"Huh. Well, you should probably ask Morte, but I think it's the interaction between the personality and the body. The, well, soul, for lack of a better word."

"You believe this unit has a soul?"

_That sounds like a loaded question if I ever heard one,_ Nameless thought. "I don't know, but I've met other, um, synthetics who I think did. So why not you?"

It considered this, filling the air with the quiet whir of moving faceplates. "We thank you, Nameless-Immortal. You are the first organic we have asked this question who immediately answered yes."

As he opened his mouth to respond, an alarm went off throughout the ship. "All ground party, meet up in the shuttle bay. Hostiles are on the Citadel."

Legion turned immediately towards the elevator, Nameless on his heels as they walked quickly forward. Garrus crowded into the elevator with them, and they grabbed their weapons on the run. "What's going on in there, Shepard?" the turian asked, ready to switch mods on his sniper rifle.

"Not sure. Traffic control wasn't responding properly, so I had EDI hack in. Judging from the large number of heavily armed people currently besieging the Presidium, my first guess in Cerberus." Shepard locked her own mods onto her sniper rifle. "We're going in hot. Cortez, open the door!"

All three snipers opened fire as the shuttle was still landing, and Nameless pulled up the spellbook list, scrolling through quickly. _Fire and Ice? That sounds promising._ Picking out a clump of four white-armored men, crouched behind their heavy riot shields, he uttered the two words of the spell. A blast of fire exploded at their feet with the force of a grenade, toppling them over but doing little real harm. Then a burst of ice and frost exploded at the same place, coating all their shields with hoarfrost. Vega's hurled grenade was much more effective, rolling behind the shields and into the middle of their group. "Thanks for the assist, Tats!" the marine shouted, jumping the five feet to the deck and sprinting forward with his shotgun.

"Sure, don't mention it," Nameless muttered, unheard as everyone else piled out of the shuttle on his heels, spewing weapons fire into the air. Half of the Cerberus troops were already down, and the handful of C-Sec personnel remaining kept them pinned down for Shepard's troops to work their combat skills to the maximum. Even as Nameless hurled magical bolts at one opponent, the man next to him lost his shield to a perfect shot through the narrow view hole in his shield.

"Shit! We're out of medigel!" one of the turians shouted.

Even as Vega and Garrus were both pulling out their supplies, Nameless had already flipped back to the _Blood Bridge_ spell casting it as soon as he could see the human. Gut wounds were nasty, no doubt, even if a mass accelerator left a smaller hole than a tanar'ri serrated sword. He grunted as the blood started trickling down over his navel.

"Holy crap," Bailey said, sitting up and gingerly prodding the hole in his armor. "That was no medigel."

"Magic, Bailey. What the hell is going on?" Shepard demanded.

"Cerberus. They had to have people on the inside, because C-Sec HQ was the first place to fall, and traffic control right behind it. If I hadn't been about to leave my office, they would have got me too." Pausing to spit on one of the Cerberus fallen, he checked his weapon and nodded towards the doors. "I think Valern is still in danger. He was down here for a meeting when all of this went down."

"We've got this." Shepard glanced around her squad quickly. "Damnit. Vega, stay here, back up Bailey. No way he can hold here with three injured men."

They went through the door and into HQ, clearing each room one at a time. Most of the Cerberus soldiers seemed preoccupied with reports from their partners deeper in the station. When they reached a café, Nameless could just barely see two Cerberus troops about to execute a C-Sec trooper. Growling, he waved his hand, bringing magical armor up around the man just before the gun fired, the bullet skipping off the glowing protection. The distraction was perfect for Shepard and Legion, both of them executing textbook-perfect headshots.

More Cerberus troops swarmed in, and Nameless lost sight of the handcuffed guard as he continued to cast, using his magic to knock their foes out of cover or leave them vulnerable to Liara's biotics. With the room at last clear, they vaulted through the shattered windows. Shepard approached the broadcasting screen as Nameless searched for the C-Sec guard. "Huh. Would have thought that bitch was on their side," she said, before shutting off Khalisah. "Something wrong, Nameless?"

His hands were clenched, white-knuckled, as different spells flicked through his mind one after another. "Despite us shooting at them, one of these bastards still made a point of stopping, yanking him down, and executing him," he growled. "Shepard, promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked, fingering her sniper rifle warily.

"When we catch up to this Illusive Man, let me kill him." He moved towards the opposite door before she could respond, blasting it apart with a lightning bolt.

"He's definitely channeling psycho-Nameless right now," Liara said quietly, flexing her fingers around her pistol.

They quickly climbed the stairs, moving for the executor's office, only to find him dead on the floor. "Shepard-Commander. Valern-Councilor is down below with a cloaking device."

"What? Shit!" Shepard shouted, leaping down the stairs three at a time, staggering off the wall at the bottom as another Cerberus man rose up behind the Councilor, a sword at the ready.

Even as Shepard raised her sniper rifle, another shot rang out, deflected by the assassin's shields, and Thane came running up, using his pistol and biotics to give Valern enough time to escape. They dueled, too close for anyone to risk firing into the melee without hitting Thane. Nameless ignored all of it, striding forward at a steady pace until he was close enough to cast.

A translucent hand shape engulfed the Cerberus man, holding him paralyzed. "This is for all of the innocent people you killed here," he growled. Motioning Thane away, he exhaled, filling the air around the assassin with green gas. Then, as the man held his breath, Nameless pummeled him with one barrage after another of magic missiles, until he was at last choking and gasping, still held utterly immobile. Impassive, the immortal watched as Kai Leng finally breathed his last and finally slumped to the ground.

"Commander!" Valern said desperately. "Udina is behind this! He's working with Cerberus to stage a coup." The salarian stopped as Nameless picked up the fallen sword, quickly beheading Kai Leng's corpse. "What was that for?"

Nameless looked up, face carved from granite. "Just in case anyone else in this universe has figured how to bring someone back from the dead. That will make their job harder." He flicked the sword in an expert gesture, the blood flowing freely off the blade. "We should continue moving."

"Into the aircars," Shepard ordered. "Valern, guide me there."

Their vehicles raced through the sky, already filled and chaotic with other vehicles filled with panicked civilians. Both vehicles bounced to a rough stop, Vega aiming his directly at a Cerberus phantom who barely managed to roll out of the way. Nameless stepped out of the car, waving one hand dismissively and filling the entire balcony with bolts of lightning, every one homing in on a Cerberus helmet.

With the immediate area cleared, Shepard led everyone into the elevator shaft, leaping atop one car with the squad right behind her and racing towards the top. "Commander, Udina and the other Councilors have jammed the door closed," EDI said when the car stopped. "We will need to pry open the doors." Nameless raised one hand, a cone of acid blasting forth, obliterating the door and splattering smoking holes in the walkway beyond it.

Williams was there, standing between the three Councilors. "Shepard? Nameless? What the fuck?"

"Udina's behind this, Williams," Shepard said calmly. "Stand down and let me take him into custody."

"How do I know you're not still with Cerberus?" she demanded.

"There's an easier way to settle this," Nameless growled. A glow sprang up around Udina with a snap of his fingers. "That's a lie detection spell. Quite imaginative of Conrad, really. So, let's start with the simple stuff. Are you Councilor Udina?"

"What? Of course I am!" The glow shifted from yellow to green. "This is an outrage! You don't have the right to challenge me like this!" At the end it flipped to red.

"I'd say that's valid enough, don't you?" Shepard asked. "Now, Udina, are you working with Cerberus?"

"Don't be ridiculous! This is a spurious accusation from a known Cerberus sympathizer!" Udina blustered.

"Then why is that glow still red?" Sparatus asked warily.

One finger pointed imperiously at Nameless. "You only have his word that it's a truth spell!" The glow switched back to green, causing Sparatus to blink in surprise. "You can't do this to me!"

"You're in league with Cerberus," Valern said, standing behind Legion for protection.

"Actually, we can," Tevos said. "Valern accuses you? That makes two votes against," she said, and Sparatus raised his hand with a mandible-spreading grin. "Three against. Spectre Williams, take Udina into custody."

Snarling, Udina went for a weapon, only for the sword to flit across the open space between them, severing his hand. "If you think I'm healing you, you're insane," the immortal growled. Ashley rushed forward, kicking the gun and the hand over to Sparatus and jerking a zip-tie restraint around the severed wrist as a tourniquet.

"Consider yourself under arrest for treason," Shepard said. "I wouldn't suggest resisting further. I don't really want to see how many other parts Nameless can chop off."

"Are you going to be alright?" Tali asked quietly.

Leaning against the railing, Nameless practiced taking deep breaths. "I hope so," he said. "I can feel it there, somewhere deep within me, a font of rage and hatred. I think it's what gave the psycho-Nameless so much power."

She rested one hand on his shoulder, and he nodded gratefully for the companionship. "Shepard, this is Bailey. Cerberus is pulling out. Whatever you did, good job."

"Indeed. Good job, Shepard," Sparatus said. "Could we possibly move to somewhere less exposed than an open balcony now?"

Sighing, Shepard turned towards the politicians. "Sure, I'll get right on that," she said.


End file.
